Hidden Love
by gidget89
Summary: Casefile. A fellow detective is brutally murdered but nothing is as it seems and Bobby and Alex find themselves struggling with personal feelings during the case. BA. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

"Goren! Eames! My office, now!"

She sighed inwardly, not glancing across the desk at her partner , knowing she just didn't want to actually see if there would be guilt written across his face. Because if there was guilt – that meant she had to face the thought of once again extracting her partner from whatever the hell he had done. She could feel his gaze on her, and practically hear the words crawling up into his throat – rumbling from the large chest as his hands gesticulated in front of him, a preview of the upcoming speech.

"No Bobby." Her voice was tight as she cut him off before he had even opened his mouth, her eyes scanning his face once, twice, quickly – and not seeing anything other than confusion. _Great. Now I get to feel guilty for assuming _ - she watched the slight hurt look come into his eyes as he finally latched onto what she had thought. This time she sighed out loud, and gestured at the pile of paperwork in front of them. "I'm sorry - I'm just- today- ugh." She finished on a half groan, and he nodded, the hurt expression receding and understanding taking it's place. And just like that – she smiled at the thought – they were fine. One half mangled sentence and a sigh and he understood why she had thought it in the first place.

"Do I pay you to stare at each other when you should be in my office Detectives?!" The voice – the _ irritated_ voice – of their Captain shook her out of her thoughts.

"Shit." she muttered, pushing her chair back and standing, while Bobby did the same, but with more of a bounce. She smiled wryly, he couldn't do anything without his over excessive personal energy pouring into it. Idly, as the strode towards Ross' office she wondered if Bobby really carried it through to everything he did-

"Sit." Ross snapped at them as they entered the office and sat. Even Bobby sat – which was unusual, in this office at any rate – but they were both adjusting. To the new Captain, to the stricter rules – Ross had come in and suddenly they found themselves at the end of a very short leash – a leash to which they were unaccustomed. Which was why she had assumed they were in here because Bobby had the awful tendency to tug and pull that leash as much as possible. A file was tossed across the desk by Ross, and before she could blink Bobby had snatched it up and opened it, reading the call out sheet inside. She glared at him, but he took no notice – it was just one of those things. Their partner things. Bobby was a bit of a control freak- to say the least – he needed to know everything first- and while, five years later, it still grated her nerves, she never spoke up. There was no point in starting arguments that could result in more arguments that could result in revelations about their relationship. And no one wanted that.

"Chief of D's just called – it's a homicide, but the victim is Det. Mark Collier – he's with CCS. He and his partner have been there for almost ten years now – and the Chief wants us to look into this."

"We don't usually-" Bobby started, his brow furrowed, but she cut him off with a glare that clearly said shut the hell up.

"Thanks Capt. We'll let you know what we find." Her voice cut in smoothly, as she stood, grabbing the shoulder of Bobby's jacket and effectively hauling him up with her. Ross just watched with a slight amused expression and waved them out the door.

Outside, she strode to their desks, grabbing her coat and turning around to the confused expression she knew was following her. "Not now." Her voice was terse as she strode over to the elevator, relishing in the fact that she was the leader and he the follower for a brief moment until he caught up with her at the elevator. They entered, and descended to the parking garage in silence, but she could feel his eyes on her, and hear how his hands flicked the folder, back and forth until the elevator interrupted with it's soft ding, and the doors slid open before them.

Once they were in the SUV she turned to him and waited for it. He glanced down at the call out sheet in his hands, a thin piece of paper in an even thinner file – until they filled it. "Bobby- you were about to do it – _again_." she stressed the last word. "I know we don't normally work straight up homicides – but the Chief of D's asked for us and you don't sit there and say no. Now what's in the file about Det. Collier?"

He nodded absently, running a hand through his hair as he read the sheet of paper before him. To the untrained eye, one would think that he hadn't even heard her, but Alex knew better. She knew that he had filed the reprimand away for future use, and had turned his attention to the case before him before she had even stopped speaking.

"He – uh – transferred in eleven years ago – military background – moved up fairly quickly – within a year and a half he was moved to the Cold Case Squad. Partnered with a Det. Theresita Casas – she was senior partner. Solve rate was high – no flags in his file – he was shot five years ago in the line of duty, but survived."

"Yeah, until now."

* * *

The scene was crowded, which wasn't unusual when it was one of their own- but she could see Bobby's skin practically crawling at the sight of so many officers contaminating the scene. She heard the familiar snapping sound of his gloves, and he strode over to the body – hanging over the ME's shoulder, waiting for her to finish with the body so that he could get a good look. As usual, with unspoken agreement, she was left to interview the officers milling about the scene. Not that she entirely minded- Det. Collier's body was spread out on his bed, assembled in a rather grotesque fashion. He had been shot, twice in the chest, and then the killer had decided to have some fun with a knife, carving up practically every inch of the body except the face. The knife had been left behind – stuck three inches deep into Collier's chest. Whoever had done this had clearly been leaving a message. She glanced away as she saw Bobby leaning over the body , inspecting the length and depth of each cut.

"Wh- what is the hair?" Bobby pointed at tufts of fur on the chest wounds, looking quizzically up at the ME. She pointed across the room to an animal control officer standing with a cage.

"Cat. Thing sat on his chest and bit two officers who tried to grab him. Had to call animal control."

Bobby nodded, bending closer still and grasping the victim's forearms in his hands, inspecting them carefully. Not looking over his shoulder, he spoke in a distracted tone. "Eames.." She nodded, even though he couldn't see her, and glanced at the officer with the cat.

"We're going to need the cat processed."She spoke dryly, and the officer nodded and took the carrier out to the CSU techs.

"There are no – no defensive wounds I can see." Bobby spoke softly, holding out an arm for her to inspect. Despite the several large jagged cuts on his forearm, she saw that he was right – there didn't appear to be anything other than precise cuts. "I mean I can't be sure-"

"He knew whoever attacked him. He must have. Maybe he was drugged?" Alex wondered aloud in a low voice, but as usual Bobby heard her.

"We'll need a tox screen done right away." He spoke to the ME in a polite tone. Turning back to the body, he began measuring the various cuts, and making notes every so often. Knowing that he would get her when he was finished with the body, she left the room.

Walking over to a shaken older man sitting in the living room, she sat next to him, taking out her note pad and activating the recorder she kept in her coat pocket at the same time. "Det- uh – Frances?" She questioned tentatively. The older man looked up, staring at her blankly for a moment before his face cleared and he nodded his head. "You found the d-" she paused a moment, rethinking her vocabulary and switching mid word. "Detective this morning?"

"Yeah." He glanced at the bedroom, paled a bit more and then glanced at her in agitation. "I was uh- Davis and I-" he gestured to a large man in the corner, speaking into a cell phone swiftly with an impassive face. "Mark was late- we would have sent MJ to check- but oh God- if we had.." he trailed off, his voice losing strength as his eyes widened in horror. "Captain sent us in to see if he was sick- or just passed out – or something.. Anyway, we got here around eleven this morning? And that's when we- we saw the door was ajar- so we came in, guns drawn and we found him." His voice grew thick towards the end of the statement, and she winced in sympathy. No one wanted to find a friend like this.

"And his partner? Wouldn't she be sent normally? Det. Casas, was it?" Frances nodded his head numbly as he adjusted his tie, pulling at it in agitation.

"Yeah MJ. But she had a half day off- some doctor's appointment or something? God- she's going to- she's going to-" He couldn't seem to finish the sentence, blinking rapidly to staunch the flow of tears. Just then there was an almost unnatural cry – low and high all at once , and they turned towards the sound. A woman, who was slight in stature was being restrained by Frances' partner. Her long dark hair was in a ponytail, and tears were streaming down her face as she clutched the arm of the man before her. Alex decided to get up and go closer. When she got within earshot, she could hear Frances' partner speaking in a low harsh tone. "He wouldn't want you to see MJ. You're not going in. He wouldn't want it." The woman's hands flexed against the arm holding her back, her nails biting into the fabric of his coat.

"No!" She snapped, her voice angry and strained and thick with the tears. "No – he's my- he's my- I have to- oh god, Mark!"All at once the fight seemed to go out of her body, and she collapsed into the mans arms, sobbing jaggedly. He took her gently by the arms pushing her out, back into the street. She followed, aware that the other detective – Frances had followed her. Once on the sidewalk, the man turned and went up the second set of stairs – the other half of the duplex.

"She lived next door. Mark loved his place – but he hated the neighbors- when they moved he talked MJ into buying the place. It works for them- they're closer- I mean they're just really great partners, you know?" She made a note in her notepad, looking up skeptically.

"Detective – had you noticed anything – anything unusual at all in the past few days?"

He wiped a hand over his brow, his eyes still on the door that David had taken her through. "No – nothing outside of work anyway. They were working a few tough cases lately – but nothing unusual. I'm sure our Captain will let you access the files." His eyes darted from her to the door, her to the door again.

"Do you mind if I-" Frances waved towards the second townhouse with a limp hand. Nodding in understanding she waved him onwards with a warning they'd need to interview all of them at a later point. With a sigh, she turned back towards the house to find her partner and finish speaking to the officers.

* * *

She rubbed her face, glancing across the desk at her partner, who was currently buried in a stack of crime scene photos, and mapping out a diagram of the crime scene. She had just finished transcribing the interviews she had conducted this morning, and stood, stretching her back out, and smiling when she saw that he didn't even look up. Shaking her head, she headed off to get them both coffee from the break room. Halfway there, their Captain stepped up to her, raising a brow in a silent inquisition. _ Why do you always have to come bug me about case updates? Jesus – like I wasn't enough of a go between with Deakins and Bobby – now I'm practically passing your guys notes_. With a slight eye roll, she shrugged back at him. "We don't have much yet Captain. ME's not done with the body- and CCS is sending over the cases Det. Collier was working on. I'm just about to schedule interviews with his Captain and co workers."

"Good- what about his partner?" Ross' voice was distracted as he trailed her into the break room.

She hesitated at the question. She was a good cop – a very good cop and she knew it. Usually it was her riding Bobby for being too empathetic, getting too involved. Somehow though, she felt a strange sort of sympathy for Det. Casas – she shivered lightly, thinking of the look of absolute horror on the woman's face today. A woman who she assumed was normally tough as nails and strong – you had to be to work in the department and be a woman- screaming and sobbing in pain at the thought of her partner of ten years – dead. She sighed softly as she stirred the coffee in front of her. Black with six sugar for her, and cream with one sugar for Bobby. He constantly teased her about having some coffee with her sugar. She bit her lip – aware that Ross was waiting for a response. Turning, she stared at him with a neutral expression. "I thought we might give his partner a day or so , sir. She was extremely distraught at the scene, and had to be sedated. She's over at Mercy now."

"Mmm hmm." Ross spoke without looking up from the file he was scanning. "Alright then – do the other detectives in his unit first, and his Captain – but Eames-" he looked up with an unreadable expression. "She does have to be interviewed. Soon." She heard the censure in his tone, and mentally kicked herself for sympathizing in any way with the woman. He nodded once, and exited the room, file still in hand. She turned back, picking up the coffee mugs in both hands, and headed back out to her desk , her preoccupied partner, and the list of phone calls she would have to make.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer:(which I forgot in the first chapter) Not mine. All Dick Wolf's and NBC's. Lucky them.

A/N: Another thing I forgot last chapter. Thanks to those of you who reviewed. I am writing this thing at an alarming rate, but it's not unusual for me, once I start something new I become a bit obsessive - bad for my real life - great for you guys! This is my first foray into L&O, or any type of crime fic, and I went to the Dick Wolf school of Law, so any mistakes are my fault.

* * *

An hour later, she had a cold cup of half drank coffee on her desk, and a crick in her neck from being on the phone so much. But she had scheduled interviews with Collier's captain, Det. Davis and Det. Frances for the next morning. She glanced over at Bobby to ask him how it was going, but was surprised to find his desk empty and the usual piles of photos and notes missing. Sighing, she turned, scanning the available rooms, finally seeing him in one of the briefing rooms, standing before a white board that was covered in writing, with photos pinned to the walls around him.

She didn't bother knocking, simply entering the room and closing the door behind her. "You know – in certain cultures it's considered polite to let your partner know you're disappearing before you do it." He turned with a smile and she felt herself responding in kind. It was hard not to smile back – Bobby smiled so rarely that one felt they had to reciprocate.

"I'm sorry Eames – you were on the uh-" he paused to make a notation on the board before continuing. "-the phone and I didn't want to disturb you."

She looked at him archly for a moment before collapsing into a chair at the table and scanning the photos. "Yeah well, I was scheduling our fun filled day tomorrow. Interviews." Her voice was dry and she grinned slightly as she spoke. "So these are the scene photos?" she stared around the room, taking in the massive amount of pictures lining the walls. Different angles of the body lined one wall, while the other two were devoted to the scene photos. One in particular caught her eye and she stepped closer.

"Yeah- CSU will have the lab reports faxed over as they go." He stood in front of the body photos, his head tilted slightly as he looked them over for what was probably the hundredth time.

"Bobby- is that-" she pointed at one photo, squinting.

"A syringe?" His voice was close behind her, indicating he had stepped up to her back and was now peering over her head. She could literally feel the heat from his body and she had to shake her head to clear her mind for a moment instead of concentrating on the feel of his breath stirring strands of her hair as he spoke. "Yeah- CSU logged it. It was in the en suite bathroom garbage."

"Do you think that's what was used to subdue him? But why leave it at the scene?" she wondered aloud.

"Yeah well- that's- that's the thing. I can't seem to find any type of puncture wound on the body." He ran a hand through his hair and walked back to the body wall in agitation. He stood in front of it, his hands on his hips- as if he were challenging the photos with his body language. She followed behind him, ducking in front of him to get a better view – it was damn near impossible to see around Robert Goren – especially when you were Alex Eames.

"Maybe he cut over the wound?" she mused, staring at the photos with him.

"That doesn't make sense though-" Bobby stood behind her, pointing over her shoulder at the grouping of photos that depicted the various cuts on the victim. "See – here and here? None of the cuts the killer made would be in a place you would inject someone. Not without restraining them first. But there are no restraint marks." He drew his arm back, and she knew he was placing his hand over his mouth – the typical thinking Bobby stance. She turned to look up at him – an annoying necessity despite her heels- and saw that she had been right.

"Well maybe the ME will be able to shed some light." He sighed at her platitude and wandered back to the white board where he was compiling a history of Collier.

"Well- he was- uh pretty much alone in the world. Joined the army when he was eighteen – did a few tours overseas- during one of them his parents were murdered. He came home and decided to leave the Army for the NYPD. His record's clean. No wives- no children-" He spoke rapidly, tripping over himself to get the necessary information out. She frowned, settling herself at the table and flicking through some of the pages of the file in front of her.

"If he didn't have a wife- maybe we'll know who was close to him from his pension file? He must have had someone listed as next of kin." she mumbled thoughtfully as she flipped through the pages. Bobby sat across from her and started searching as well.

"He uh- here it is, Eames." He scanned the page before handing it over to her. "He had his partner listed as his next of kin. He even left her spousal privileges – that kind of thing."

"His partner? That seems odd, especially the spousal privileges." She frowned as she scanned the document, signed by Mark Collier five years ago.

"Not so- not so odd-" Bobby spoke hesitantly as he ran a hand over his face and leaned back in his chair. "I mean – he was alone in the world, and who better than his partner to be his next of kin? She would know his views on certain issues if it was an issue of life or death – he had no family – work was probably his life. So presumably he would want the person who he'd worked with for ten years to be taken care of."

She watched Bobby face as he spoke, the shadow of sadness in his eyes as he spoke, and she knew that he was identifying with the victim. She sighed inwardly – this happened alot with Bobby- but at least he was identifying with the vic instead of the suspect this time.

"I mean- I- I- you're my next of kin." he blurted out, and she glanced up in shock. She opened her mouth, but closed it again. It made an odd kind of sense. Bobby didn't have family to depend on, his Mom wasn't capable of making decisions – and she knew he didn't trust his brother to do it. She had always just vaguely assumed that Bobby would have someone else though – Lewis or.. "Should I have asked you about that first?" His voice startled her out of her thoughts and she smiled in his direction, hoping to ease the lines of worry that were written on his face.

"No. Bobby- no- I'm – honored actually , that you trust me that much." She glanced down awkwardly, berating herself for her choice of words. _Trust, Alex? You are such an idiot._

"Of course I do Eames." And there it was again, _Eames_. She could decide if he lived or died, but he couldn't call her by her given name. She snorted slightly, half choking on a deranged sort of giggle, and he looked up at her in query. She shook her head silently, indicating that it was nothing, but he leaned forward, clearly intent on discovering what she found amusing. She leaned back, even though there was an entire table between them, Bobby had the ability to somehow seem larger than the room, bigger than the objects between them. She felt her phone vibrate at her waist, and almost sighed in relief. Grabbing it, she smiled and answered while he watched her closely.

"Eames." she spoke into the phone with a relieved tone, and she knew he heard it by the way he crossed his arms across his chest. When the call was over, she flicked the phone shut, smiling sweetly at him. "Sorry Bobby- you got your wish. ME is ready for us." Standing swiftly she walked towards the door, only to be stopped a a large hand held it shut before her. He was leaning to the left of her, watching her closely. "Bobby- the ME." she spoke in a pointed tone.

Removing his hand he smiled slightly. "Fine. But I'm not done. I want to know what was so funny."

Walking past him she laughed under her breath. "Yeah, I'm terrified. Now lets go see what Det. Collier is able to tell us."

* * *

She always hated the morgue. It wasn't the bodies, but the temperature. She was fond of sleeveless shirts, and only wore her suit coats when they were out interviewing suspects and witnesses. And at the morgue. Pulling her jacket closed and buttoning it up, she followed in Bobby's wake, hurrying to keep up with his longer strides. Halfway over to the table where the ME was still leaning over the body, he stopped abruptly, glancing back in apology and waiting for her. She just nodded, indicating it was fine, and they walked up to the table together.

"So, what have you got?" she spoke when it was clear Bobby was waiting for her. Which was odd- he usually snapped gloves on and dove right in. She shot him a quizzical look, but he merely shrugged, placing his binder on a nearby table and grabbing a pair of gloves.

"Well, you were right Goren – no defensive wounds. Also very little bleeding from the cuts, and difference in the bruising patterns here and here-" she pointed to two separate long gashes, one on the arm and one on the chest. The arm had slight bruising around it, but the cut on the chest was as clean as her autopsy incisions. "-which indicates that the wounds were inflicted both perimortem and postmortem."

"So the killer starting cutting before he died, and kept going?" she inquired as Bobby leaned down over the now clean body, inspecting the cuts.

"Exactly."

"What about- about the cuts themselves? Were there any depth variations? Hesitation?" Bobby spoke from his his current position, holding the arm of the corpse and pushing the wounds apart with his gloved fingers.

"None. Which is rare enough, but the length and precision were also damn near perfect. I'd say you're looking for someone who was a professional."

Alex frowned, glancing down at Bobby as she did so. "That doesn't make any sense though- I mean, why shoot him first if you were so into the cutting aspect?"

Straightening, Bobby looked across at her thoughtfully. "Well he could not be used to blood – to live operations. Maybe a med student?"

"I sent his blood to tox, the results should be back soon – but other than that he was in perfect health – all his vital organs were damn near perfect, he didn't drink excessively or smoke. All that was in his stomach contents was a half a cup of coffee." The ME handed Alex the completed autopsy report and smiled. She nodded, and took it, waiting for Bobby to shed his gloves, and grab his notebook again. As they walked through the doors, she handed him the file, knowing he would want a closer look at it in the car. He smiled his thanks, tucking it safely away, before looking at her, waiting to see where they would go next.

"How about we go down to CSU and see if we can nag some results out of them?" she grinned back at him as they walked through the long white corridor. "There's not much we can do at One PP until we get some results. Hey, maybe I'll be able to have dinner at a normal hour tonight and go to sleep in a bed, like normal folks do."

He chuckled as he got into the SUV, folding his too large frame up to fit in the front seat. She always thought they should have a bigger vehicle, but short of moving up to a tank – which she had heard weren't that roomy anyway- there wasn't much they could do. "I wouldn't bet on it." he answered wryly. She looked at him in confusion. "Dinner? Bed? Wow, Eames, you really _do_ need a break."

"I somehow doubt I'm going to get it on this case."

* * *

After Bobby had managed to somehow finagle the lab reports from the female CSU tech, and she had stopped to grab some food, knowing that they wouldn't be going anywhere for a while, they found themselves back in the briefing room, surrounded once more by photos, only this time there were lab reports scattered across the table like confetti.

"So – let me get this right. The lab found traces of Rohypnol in his blood. But he wasn't sexually assaulted, just murdered." She spoke around large bites of the roast beef sandwich in her hands.

"Right. So whoever gave him the drug must have been trusted. If it was a known enemy, Collier wouldn't have trusted him enough to let him into his home. They slip him the drug in his coffee, they drink, chat and bam!-" he slapped his palm on the table for emphasis, but she didn't stop eating, merely chewed thoughtfully and waited for him to finish. "Bob's your uncle, he's practically passed out and compliant. The killer takes him into the bedroom, shoots him on the bed, and then starts carving." Wrinkling her nose in distaste and glancing down at her sandwich, she sighed before dropping it into a nearby garbage container. Picking up her drink and taking a sip, she cleared her throat.

"Bob's your uncle?" she asked dryly. He glanced over at her with confusion and she waited for him to explain.

"Oh – just a – a British saying. Anyway as near as I can figure – we'll need to talk to the partner and soon. I mean, not only is she his partner, but she lives next door. She may have heard something- I mean – we have no idea how long the killer was there. He could have come in late last night and stayed, waiting- or-"

"Well the funeral is tomorrow afternoon." she spoke thoughtfully. "And we have the other co workers coming in in the morning, so unless you want to go to the cemetery to speak with her – it will have to wait for the next morning." She spoke nonchalantly, but cursed inwardly when she felt Bobby's eyes on her. Those damn eyes tended to see everything, every sign that she was putting off interviewing this woman because of personal issues.

"Eames-"

"I don't want to talk about it Bobby. It's not possible to interview her before then."

"Well, technically we could reschedule, or ask her to come in early- but we aren't. You're cutting her a break, Eames. Why? Usually it's me sympathizing with suspects not you." He leaned across the table as he spoke, his arms resting on the papers in front of him, causing the sheets to shift and crinkle under the weight.

She felt an irritation rise within her at his implication. "Why would you assume she's a suspect?" she spoke in a defensive tone.

"Because she lives next door, hasn't given us an alibi, was supposedly missing from work during the TOD and was his only family to speak of?" His tone wasn't angry, he was just stating the facts – each and everyone of them true – and incriminating. She still took offense on Det Casas' behalf, though.

"Bobby she was his partner for 10 years – she's a cop for crying out loud – besides which, she doesn't fit your profile." She spoke smugly waving at the board behind him. He glanced over his shoulder in surprise. "Hey, I pay attention. Just not to you." He glanced back and sighed in acknowledgment. Standing, he crossed to her side of the table, carrying his chair with him. Dropping it next to her seat with a thud, he sat down in it backwards, his arms resting on the seatback.

"Eames- they're-" his voice was hesitant, like the gentle tone he used with the unbalanced suspects. She stiffened in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the whiteboard in front of her, refusing to meet his gaze. "They're not _us_, alright? That body- it's not me, and Det. Casas isn't you."

"You think I don't know that Bobby?" she spoke harshly, transferring her glare from the board to him. To his credit, he did seem to back up an inch or two in the face of it, clearly knowing that she needed space. "I do know that- but I saw her today- and – God Bobby they were partners ten years. That's twice as long as us, and I know how well I'd handle it if that was _you_." She waved an arm at the wall of photos behind her. "I just- she didn't look like she was trying to appear upset- she looked devastated, and I don't think she did it. And I trust my gut, so I'm trying to give her some time."

He nodded slowly in understanding. "I get it. I still think you're getting too close to this case though-"

"Well don't we specialize in those?" she spoke dryly, with a half smile.

Running a hand through his hair, he nodded. "Well yes, but usually I'm the one close – not you. Don't blame me if I don't know this role very well. I can't- can't come up with some sarcastic remark tomake you laugh and pull you back. That's not me, it's you." She looked at him, sitting there trying to make things better for her, and she felt a wave of guilt crash over her.

"I'm sorry. You're right- as usual-" she added dryly. "I need to step back from my feelings about this case-"

"Eames," he spoke softly. "It's not that easy, believe me I know. Besides, you're attachment may be useful – you may offer insights- I just- I want you to be careful, alright?"

"Sure Bobby. Careful- my new mantra." She smiled as she spoke, but knew it didn't reach her eyes. They sat there for a moment, staring at each other, both refusing to be the one to break their gaze.

"I really do pay you to stare at each other don't I?" a weary voice issued from the door. They glanced over to see Ross standing there. Neither of them moved, and he sighed, placing his hands on his hips, just above his holster. "Update – my office now. After that you two can go home." Turning on his heel, he walked out of the door.

"Look at that Eames." Bobby spoke softly. "Maybe you'll sleep like normal folks, after all."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks to those of you who reviewed! It's a bit depressing looking at hits vs reviews, but oh well. I meant to mention last chapter- that although this is a BA fic, I'm trying to have it develop organically, so it'll be a while, if it gets resolved at all in this fic. But I will have it chock full of moments. I didn't mean for this chapter to be this long, but Bobby and Alex wouldn't stop talking. Sigh.

Disclaimer: No harm, no sue. I don't own them.

* * *

She hated phones. Especially annoying ones that sat on her bedside table, buzzing incessantly at- she glanced over at her alarm clock – 6:05 am. Letting out a low disgusted growl- she flipped the covers up over her head creating a cocoon, and reached one arm out to grab her phone. Glancing at the display – _Goren_- she groaned again, louder this time. Flipping open the phone she put it to her ear. "I hate you."

"And good morning to you too sunshine." Bobby's voice was what it always was in the mornings – chipper. She hated chipper- she hated the term , she hated chipper things, chipper sounds, chipper people.

"Is someone dead, Goren? Because it is still dark out and my alarm doesn't go off for another forty five minutes, so someone had better be dead." She heard his chuckle come across the line and felt her irritation rise in response. She really hated him right now.

"Aren't you a joy to wake up to. I couldn't sleep so I came in an hour ago-"

"At five in the morning? Bobby-"

"I know. But I got here and the files on Collier's co-workers came in, and some new lab results from CSU." She could hear paper rustling as he spoke, and she sighed in defeat. Pulling herself out of bed she stood and started towards her bathroom..

"God, does no one in the department sleep?" she mumbled incoherently as she stepped into the washroom, gasping as her feet hit cold tile.

"Well, we never close – are you all right?" he asked at her gasp. She laughed lightly in response.

"No. I am up too early, and my floor is cold Bobby." Her voice seemed to be wandering dangerously towards petulance as she spoke.

"If you're here in twenty minutes, I'll leave now for your usual cup of sugar with just a touch of coffee from the cafe." His voice was wheedling and she frowned at her phone, wishing she could glare at him in person.

"I want something to eat too."

"Absolutely-" his voice brightened now that he had gotten his way - "What do you want?"

"You know what I like, surprise me. And it'll be thirty minutes, not twenty- I need to shower." She smiled into the phone at the sudden lack of response on the other end. Leaning over, she twisted the knobs of her shower, letting the water run and heat before she stepped in.

"Uh- sure Eames. I'll be waiting." He hung up the phone abruptly and she flipped it shut, sticking her tongue out at the inanimate object.

"Aren't you always?"

* * *

Forty minutes later, she stepped off the elevator at work and stalked over to their joined desks. Dropping her purse and her bag underneath it, she glared at Bobby's empty chair, and wandered over to the briefing room they had taken over. Bobby was inside, sipping coffee and looking as if he had slept a solid ten hours the night before. His suit coat hung on his chair, and he was dressed in a crisp shirt and tie. She decided then and there to hate him for the rest of the day. She glanced down at her dark blue jeans and faded t shirt – a throwback from collage and one of the most comfortable things she owned. Rolling her eyes slightly, she waked in, sat in the chair across from him, and took what she assumed was her cup off the table.

He pushed a brown paper bag across the table without glancing up. "Muffin."

"Yes, cupcake?" she teased him, taking delight in his gaze shooting up to her in surprise. She grinned at him, opening the bag and beginning to pick apart the blueberry muffin inside. She hated blueberries, unless they were in muffins. She wasn't surprised that Bobby remembered.

"Funny Eames." he spoke dryly and she felt the urge to laugh out loud at him.

"Aww honey- I was just 'muffin' a minute ago, and now it's back to Eames. Love comes and goes I guess, huh?" He glared at her, and she just smiled wider – if she was coming in early, she was damn well going to get some fun out of it. He sighed across from her, and bent his head again.

"I see it's going to be one of those days." he muttered, and she crumpled up her now empty bag and tossed it across the room into the trash.

"One of those days where you wake me at an ungodly hour and I spend the day torturing you for it?" She calmly sipped her coffee after she spoke. "Yes, yes it is." She watched him shift in his chair, much like a child waiting to be scolded by his mother and smiled into her coffee. Deciding she had had enough – _for now_ – she decided to give him a break. "So – you wake my at six for some deeply interesting files, and here I am, and you don't produce."

He seemed to relax slightly, it was amazing how tense he got when they discussed anything non work related- and pushed a pile of papers at her. Standing, he moved over to the white board, writing some information on it. "His Captain is Geoffrey Sims – been in the force for almost 30 years now. Clean record, very few complaints files against him. Then there is Detectives Frances and Davis – Tom and Ed respectively. Frances is near retirement, been with the force all his life- has a few write ups- especially recently. Old school cop – new PC world, that type thing." He waved his right hand as he wrote. "Davis is the newbie of the squad, only been there three years. He is cleaner than a whistle. Top of his class – worked the beat- meticulous record, took his detective exam, passed with flying colors, worked Homicide for a while, then transferred to CCS." Her stepped back, rubbing a hand over his face as he spoke, and looking at the board.

"Sounds like your typical squad." she spoke, glancing at the files he had pushed over to her. He walked over to a table, picking up a thick file, and came back to the table, dropping it with a heavy thud.

"Yeah. And this-" he gestured to the thick file- "is Theresita Casas' file." Her eyes widened as she took it in, and glanced up at Bobby. "It's not- not as bad as it looks. She's been reprimanded- alot, for her 'methods' during cases. She tends to step on the darker side of the line – does things to get her perps that she's been reprimanded for. She also got a lot of write ups while working Narcotics and Homicide. She didn't deal well with the families- victims, that type of thing. One write up called her cold- another selfish- one complainant called her a heartless bitch-" As he spoke he pulled out the various pieces of paper corresponding with each complaint. "- but, once she transferred to CCS, the complaints slowed down, and once she was partnered with Collier, after about a year – they stopped all together."

Frowning, Alex examined the sheets in front of her. Looking up at Bobby, she grimaced. "And this helps us how?"

"Well, it doesn't – not really, but it'll give us a handle on her when we go interview her tomorrow morning."

"You scheduled an interview?" she spoke quickly, watching Bobby with an unreadable expression. He met her eyes and shook his head quickly.

"No- she called Ross and scheduled it. She wants to help- knows she needs to talk to us. She did ask that it be at her home, instead of here though." His tone was soft, and almost apologetic.

"I'm sorry-" He waved her apology off though, and searched through the papers for another file folder, this one much slimmer.

"It's fine, Eames. Here are the CSU reports. All the blood was from the victim, they didn't find and prints other than Collier's and Casas' – which isn't unusual considering they lived next door to one another." His tone was impersonal, and she could tell that his mind was completely absorbed in the scene. Pulling another sheet out, he slid it across the desk, pushing it towards her, and pointing at several highlighted lines. "These are the LUD's for his cell and house phone. His partner, tried to call him 14 times that morning, respectively – five times on the house phone, and nine times on the cell."

"Wonder what she was trying to get a hold of him for. When's the first call?"

"Uh," he tilted his head slightly, reading upside down. "Nine fifteen."

"Well, that gives us a time frame, doesn't it? We know at nine fifteen the killer was there – otherwise don't you think he'd answer her call?" She studied the bright yellow highlighted calls as she spoke.

"Well- I mean he could have-"

"Goren, do you ever not answer my calls?"

"Well no-"

"And do I ever not answer yours?" She stopped abruptly, sucking in a breath as she saw the shadow cross his face. She had not answered his call. And look how that had turned out._Shit, stupid Alex, stupid._

"Not willingly- no." His voice was soft as he answered and she felt his eyes studying her, as she bent her face towards the files. Deciding that a change of subject was due, she switched topics abruptly.

"What about the syringe?" she asked him, glancing across at the photos.

His face brightened at the change of topic, and he leaned forward further, preparing to go into what she called 'Bobby lecture mode'. She rolled her eyes slightly, but was secretly relives his mind had been taken off the subject of her kidnapping. "Interestingly enough, not Rohypnol- not that I expected it to be. Roofies are usually given in drinks, so I was right about the coffee. One of the mugs held traces of the drug. We need to look into it actually- the chemical make up of the Rohypnol can tell us where it was manufactured. Mexican forms of the drug usually contain more-"

"Goren." she spoke sharply to get him back on point. "The syringe?"

"Oh yeah- anyway interestingly enough, the syringe was filled with Repronex, a gonadotropin which is used in-"

"Fertility drugs?" He glanced up in surprise, and she she resisted the urge to smack him. "My sister took them Bobby – remember? They help the body produce several eggs per cycle instead of one. She took them for harvesting, but some women take them to increase their chances of fertilization. But why would a single man, with no wife or girlfriend that we know of, have them in his house?"

"Well, in some men, the gonadotropin can help with hormonal imbalance, resulting in low sperm count, or low mobility-"

"Shit, where do you come up with this stuff?" she glared across at him, and to her surprise, he laughed out loud.

"I googled it Eames. Before you got here." She grinned at him, and pulled a face.

"I can't believe you touched a computer- isn't that part of my job description? Right under sidekick?" She laughed under her breath, but the sound died in her throat at his expression.

"You are not my sidekick, Eames! You know I don't think that- don't you?" He was staring at her intently, his eyes focused on her like spotlights, and she felt herself grow uncomfortable just from his gaze. Flushing, she glanced down, looking at her hands.

"Of course I know that Bobby- but let's face it, I am considered-"

"I don't give a shit what other people consider you, as long as we know different, right?" His voice was still intense and she could still feel his eyes on her. She took a deep breath, vaguely aware that her skin felt heated, as she glanced up at him.

"Right." He still stared, and she leaned across the table and stared him down, her gaze serious. "Right, Bobby. We know." She glanced at the clock, surprised to see it was almost eight now. "Shoot – I have to go change before Sims comes in for his interview."

"Why?" he asked mildly.

"Well, because jeans and my Star Wars t-shirt from 1984 don't really count as work clothes?" She spoke sarcastically. Truth was she was also a bit annoyed by it as well- it was one thing to think 'oh he just never looks at me that way' it was quite another to be smacked in the face with proof. Shaking her head, she walked across the bullpen towards their desks to get her bag with her work clothes.

"Eames- wait-" he called, following her and quickly catching up. "I didn't mean- I just thought it was a black shirt – there's nothing written on it-" he waved a hand in front of her cheat, but avoiding looking down, clearly embarrassed.

"It's been well loved." She spoke in a exasperated tone, glancing down. She noticed that he was right, the picture had long since faded, only leaving a ghost of a darker image. "Sorry – I thought you just didn't notice what I was-" she stopped before she could finish. What in the hell would he think about her saying that? Like she expected him to notice?

He just nodded, rubbing a finger along behind his ear as he looked towards the bank of elevators that would soon carry their colleagues to work any minute now. Taking advantage of his averted gaze, she grabbed her bag and high tailed it toward the women's washroom, and escape.

* * *

"Thanks for coming in Captain Sims." Her tone was detached, and crisp, as she and Bobby sat down side by side, across from the Captain. He was an older man, but still fit, and had that hard ass look about him that all Captains seemed to acquire.

"It's not a problem, detectives. I just want the bastard who did this caught." His voice was gruff, and his hands clenched on his hat as he spoke. He was dressed in his dress blues, clearly intending on going to the funeral from here.

"Alright, so how was Collier to work with? Any issues off the record, or problems?" Bobby started off, clearly stepping out and taking the aggressive role. She sat back, and waited – this game was familiar to her, and they often switched roles when trying to get information.

"He was a good man." Sims glared at Bobby as he spoke, before transferring his gaze to her. "He had a great background in military intelligence- but after his parents died – well.." he trailed off, his gaze defocussing as he thought. "I've had him for ten years- and I almost never had to write Mark up. He was a good cop- played by the book, toed the line. Hell, he even managed to get MJ in line, which was a feat I feared would never be accomplished."

"Almost never, sir?" Bobby's voice cut across the captains reminiscing. Sims frowned at Bobby in confusion. "You uh- you said you 'almost never' had to write him up. When did you have to?" Sims frown deepened in response to the question.

"Five years ago. Mark was chasing his parents case – it was the reason he wanted cold case, so that he could still work it in his off time. Took him five years, but he found evidence that nailed the killers- there were two of them. He went off, half cocked, didn't wait for back up- hell he didn't even wait for his partner. Took off on his own, and almost got himself and her killed." The captain spoke in a neutral tone, no censure was discernible. Alex made a note on the pad in front of her, exchanging glances with Bobby, before he continued.

"What happened?"

"He got caught in a fire fight with the suspects. He had no backup, but managed to take one of them down. When MJ showed up- she shot the other suspect, but not before Mark took a round to the chest- with no vest on. He almost killed himself." Sims glanced down at his hat, looking back up at Goren with a glare. "It's in his file."

"No, actually , it's not. There is mention of an incident reported, but IAB has the detailed version, and well- getting a file out them is like.." She spoke in a wry tone, using humor to relax the man in front of them. He grinned at her, and she smiled back.

"Don't I know it. Damn bastards at IAB. Anyway, after that – I don't know if Mark was terrified by MJ's threat to kick his ass to hell and back if he ever did something like that again, or if it was just a one time thing- but he was clean after that. Never a toe out of line."

"What kinds of cases were they working on before Det. Collier was killed?" She asked in a gentle tone, pen at the ready and a apologetic expression. "We haven't gotten the case files yet."

"Because it's just one case file. I had to pass it off to Frances and Davis. It was a body – was found two weeks ago, turned out to be a missing pregnant woman who had disappeared three years ago. Mark and MJ had been working on it for a week or so – re interviewing family and friends, going over the autopsy, waiting for a forensic anthropologist – that type of thing. They didn't have a clear suspect. I don't really think that whoever did this to Mark had anything to do with the case."

She nodded, making some notes in the files, while Bobby listened and searched his case. "Uh- tell me Captain, did Mark have a steady girlfriend?" he mumbled as he searched, but pitched his voice loud enough to be heard.

"Uh- no, none that I know of. Ask MJ, she'd know better than I would. My detectives don't exactly discuss their private lives with me Detective Goren." He shifted in his chair, clearly becoming impatient with the interview.

"One more thing Captain-" Bobby spoke in a placating tone that appeared to grate on Sims' nerves judging by how he stiffened. "Had you noticed any changes in Det. Collier's behaviors in the weeks before his murder?"

"No." Sims' snapped tightly. "Mark was an outgoing guy , friendly, upbeat – he seemed the same as usual."

"Alright, thank you for your time Captain." She spoke soothingly, bridging the gap Bobby had left. "If you think of anything else at all, call. We may need to contact you at a later date." Sims smiled down at her from his standing position and thanked her, before glaring at Bobby again and exiting the room. She returned her attention to her notes and smiled slightly.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just nice being the good cop occasionally." She smiled as she spoke, and he stared at her.

"I wasn't the bad cop – just the- the" he paused for a moment, and she looked up from the legal pad she had been staring at.

"Heartless one? I know. So-" she switched the subject swiftly - "who do we have next? Frances, or Davis?"

Bobby glanced down at his sheet and looked up. "Frances-" he spoke quickly, glancing at his watch. "-and then Davis and we have to be quick. Funeral starts at eleven, so they'll need to be out of here by then."

"Alright, let's get it done."

* * *

Several hours later they found themselves in the briefing room again. Bobby was pacing and staring at the white board as usual, and she was trying to type up transcripts of the interviews just conducted, while scooping rice out of a cardboard container. She dropped the box, sighing in disgust as she continued typing. She hated paperwork. Moreover she hated mid case paperwork, as Bobby tended to forget it existed. He usually made it up to her though- but doing all of the closing paper work himself.

Frowning, she deleted the typo she had just made and corrected it, sitting back and saving the document. The interviews with Davis and Frances had gone amazingly like Capt. Sims interview. No Mark wasn't acting odd. He was a great guy. Good solve rate- one of the best in CCS country wide. No they didn't know if he had a girlfriend, or who his friends outside of work were. Ask his partner. They were hitting a brick wall with physical evidence, whoever the guy had been, he hadn't left a trace of himself at the scene. They knew the Rohypnol had come from Mexico and that was about it. They had no way of knowing exactly which part of the country it had comes from, and no way of finding out. They were still working the fertility drug angle, but there were a lot of specialists in the New York area, and none of them would release confidential information without a warrant.

She heard a crackling sound, and glanced up to see Bobby tilting his head left and then right, cracking his neck as he went. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she crumpled up a loose sheet of paper and threw it at him. It bounced off of his head with amazing accuracy, and she started typing again before he could turn around.

"Funny Eames." He tossed it back at her after scooping it off the floor. She dodged left, and it sailed past her head, causing him to glare at her and drop into the chair beside her. "Need help?" He offered, which she should have at least given him points for, but his tone clearly said 'please God don't make me sit and do that.' Rolling her eyes, she saved the document again, and shut the computer, turning to stare at him.

"No cupcake, I just finished. But let me applaud your impeccable sense of timing , as always." To his credit, he flushed under her gaze.

"Sorry- I was uh- just-"

"Having an impromptu chiro session?" She spoke in a gentle teasing voice, smiling to let him know that she was teasing. Sometimes with Bobby you had to beat him with the fact that it was a joke. Not so much now as in the early years of their partnership, though. "I hate my laptop right now." She muttered, transferring her look to the silent computer.

"Want me to kick it's ass?" He leaned over, giving the computer his best glare, and she found herself choking on her laughter.

"You wouldn't stand a chance, cupcake."

"Still with that? Do you know the meaning of overusing a joke?" He glanced over at her, his eyes light, and a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.

"Not really.. no." She grinned and stretched back, raising her arms over her head as she glanced at the time. Three pm. Damn – still hours to go and nothing to go on. She craned her neck around, her eyes traveling across the photos as she did so. Settling back into to position, she turned to find Bobby watching her, and she sighed. "So , what now?"

"Oh what all of a sudden _I'm_ the leader?" he snorted under his breath and she elbowed him lightly.

"All of a sudden my ass, half of my day is spent chasing you trying to figure out what the hell you just figured out." He opened his mouth to retaliate, but the phone on his belt buzzed before he could get anything out. Frowning at her, he answered it, speaking in brief sentences. When he had finished, he nudged her slightly with his shoulder.

"Want something to do? That was Casas – she wants to do her interview now. Doesn't want to sit home and think about it. She seems kind of nervous." He spoke in a hopeful tone, and she glared at him.

"Got all that in a three minute conversation, did you?" She folded her arms across her chest, staring up at him as he stood.

"Haven't you heard? I'm a genius. Come on." He handed her coat to her, and grabbed the keys from the table where she had dropped them earlier.

"Maybe we can get a damn break in this case." She muttered as she followed him out the door to interview Theresita Casas, and hopefully get some useful answers.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Again many thanks for the reviews, I try to reply to all of them, but would like to thank Abby for her wonderful review - I would have replied, but it was anon.

Disclaimer: Not mine, although my imagination seems to be in denial.

* * *

When she pulled up outside Theresita Casas' house, they could see every light on inside. Frowning, she put the car into park, before sliding out from behind the wheel, and waiting for her partner to join her. They walked up to the door, ringing the bell and waiting. She shot a few glances towards the other half of the condo, and frowned again.

"What?" Bobby whispered next to her, leaning down so she could hear him.

"It just- it must be hard for her to be next door like this.." she whispered back, leaning her body towards him, mirroring him unconsciously. She heard the knob turn, and stood straight, and then the door opened and Theresita Casas stood there , illuminated by the overabundance of light behind her. She was a pretty woman, who looked to be in her late thirties, with long dark hair hanging down her back. She had black pants on, that looked like part of a lounge suit, and a plain white shirt that was too large for her. Her skin was blanched underneath the olive complexion and she had dark circles under her bloodshot eyes. She smiled wanly at them, opening the door further and indicating they should come in.

"Thanks for coming- I know it was short notice, but I feel like if I don't do this now, I never will." Her tone was warm, and self depreciating. It sounded worn, much like she appeared to be. She lead them into the living room, which was for lack of a better word, white. White walls, bleached oak floors, a fireplace in cream stucco – the only splashes of color came from her deep blue sofa and red chairs, and the photos lining the wall. Alex seated herself in one of the red wing chairs, while Theresita curled into a corner of the sofa. Bobby, unsurprisingly, wandered around looking at photos and examining books and knick knacks around the room.

"Sorry – that's just what he does." she spoke apologetically, but Theresita just shrugged in response, not seeming bothered by it.

"It's alright – everyone has their quirks. He can look all he wants." A large tan cat stalked into the room and stared in disgust at the newcomers before leaping with grace onto his owners lap and settling there.

Alex took out her tape recorder, and placed it on the scarred wooden coffee table, pulling out her notebook along with it, she cleared her throat slightly to let Bobby know she was starting. She heard his grunt in reply , which meant to start without him. Sighing, she turned to the detective in front of her. "Thanks for letting us speak to you so quickly Det. Casas-"

"Call me MJ, please." she spoke in a friendly tone, and stroked the animal on her lap comfortingly.

"MJ's an- unusual nick name- how did you get it?" Bobby's voice rumbled from across the room, proving he was listening intently, even if preoccupied.

MJ smiled, and the action lit up her face for a moment. "I worked Narcotics for a while when I first joined. None of the guys would call me by my first name and they hated spitting out Casas all the time. One guy was intrepid enough to discover my full name – Theresita Herminia Casas – and he noticed the initials."

"THC." Bobby's voice startled Alex, and she turned seeing he was now standing behind her chair, and moving to seat himself in the other armchair.

"Yeah- so he started calling me Mary Jane – and it got shortened to MJ eventually, and kind of caught on." She took a deep breath, looking decidedly more tense now that Bobby had joined them.

"Your photos-" Bobby waved an arm around the room as he spoke - "They're all work related, right? You're wearing your shield in almost all of them." He explained at her startled expression.

"Yeah – well, I don't have family outside of work." Her tone had become terse, and Alex frowned. Seeing their confused expression, she deliberated on her statement. "I was abandoned as a baby." She shrugged, brushing off the seriousness of her statement. "I was brought to a free clinic, and was there for three years before being passed onto the foster care system. After that I was in and out of homes until I turned eighteen and joined the force."

"Your mother was a drug addict?" Bobby questioned, making a note in his ever present binder.

"Yeah – it took them three years to stabilize me."

"Alright-" Alex cut in softly, taking control of her partner's wandering tendencies and refocusing the subject. "- tell us about Det. Collier."

"I don't know where to start really-" she sighed softly, her hand running through the cat's fur absently as she spoke. "I guess, in order to tell you the whole truth, I need to start from the beginning. I haven't told anyone this story-" MJ glanced up and met her eyes, and she was startled to see tears swimming in them. "But I have to now- for Mark. It'll probably get me fired.. but that's not important. You need to know everything – if only to eliminate me as a suspect."

Bobby glanced over at her, and she met his eyes, and they both leaned forward slightly, knowing that what would come next might explain alot of things. MJ ran an agitated hand though her hair and sighed. Bobby merely nodded in her direction, indicating she should continue.

"I was at CCS for about half a year when Mark came in and we got paired together. I kind of- hated him in the beginning. He was always very calm and detail oriented, together – basically everything I'm not and never will be. Plus he was an Army transfer – from Intelligence no less, and he had that whole Army attitude. Used to strict rules and very by the book, if you know what I mean." Alex snorted, glancing at Bobby. Two men coming from the army couldn't sound more different – Det. Collier adhered to his military training, whereas Bobby seemed to break as many rules as possible, maybe because he had to follow such strict rules while in the Forces. Bobby just looked at her, as usual knowing what was going through her head.

"Wow, you guys have been partners for a while huh?" MJ's voice broke in. "Unspoken signals- you can tell. Were you army too, Det. Goren? I'm sorry-"

"No, it's fine." Bobby waved her apology off, and waited for her to continue.

"Anyway- so we didn't get along. Mark would deliberately call me by my last name – ever though no one else did. And I would deliberately get his wrong for the first few weeks, just cause it irritated the hell out of him." She smiled in memory for a moment, before her expression seemed to catch and crumble. "Anyway – we caught a real bitch of a case – involving old rapes – and we were staking out the suspect. We – talked alot on that case. He told me he had been calling me Casas because he didn't know why they called me MJ and he didn't want to assume. After that we became closer. Friends even. I had a ton of issues before Mark partnered me – I had a hard time identifying with victims and dealing with families. I'm not what you'd call tactful, exactly." She smiled wryly as she spoke.

"Mark- he dealt with the families alot- and he was good at it, so he handled that aspect and I handled interrogations. It worked – really well. We were friends outside of work – he wanted me to buy this place when his neighbors left- he hated them. His best argument was that when we got a call, we wouldn't have to pick the other up." She laughed shortly, wiping a hand across her eyes as she spoke. "After that we spent almost all our time together. He was my best friend." She whispered softly, and they remained silent, both silently agreeing not to interrupt her story.

"He had told me about his parents- his dad was shot you know, and his Mom was stabbed. I'd help him look for the perps, when we weren't working new cases. He knew all about me too – I think we kind of stuck because we had no one else, you know?" She glanced up at them, her eyes red from crying. Bobby nodded in response.

"Anyway when he finally caught a break- he had the knife re examined for a secondary blood sample-"

"Most stabbings inflict wounds on the killer as well." She muttered softly, and MJ nodded in agreement.

"DNA had moved forward in leaps and bounds, and they discovered a separate sample. Ran it through Codis and got a match. Mark didn't wait for me that day- he took off to question the suspect on his own. Turned out there were two of them there that day. He got in the house, asked them some questions, and they drew weapons on him. That's when I got there- Mark was inside with his weapon drawn, at a standstill with them. One of them turned to run, and Mark shot him- and then the other perp shot Mark, in the chest. I didn't think- I couldn't really, but I fired on the perp and killed him. It was declared a clean shooting though." She spoke in a soft voice, and clearly they could see that she was back in that moment again.

"Mark was-" her breath hitched slightly and she pressed a hand to her mouth for a moment. "- he was laying there and there was so much blood. It was everywhere, all over me, and him, and he wouldn't wake up- I called for a bus and applied pressure, and after that it was kind of blurry. I don't really remember, if you know what I mean? It was like I was in auto pilot. Next thing I knew I was sitting in a waiting room, praying for him not to die, still covered in his blood. And I knew." She looked up at them, her dark eyes soft. "I knew that Mark wasn't my best friend. He wasn't just my family – he was my _life_. And I had never really thought about it – until I was there, facing the thought that he might not be there anymore."

"I know." Bobby was leaning fully forward now, and nodding along with MJ, "Eames she was- taken not-" He stopped abruptly, glancing at her, clearly afraid he'd said something wrong. Alex looked at him, realizing that as terrifying as her kidnapping had been for her, she had at least known Bobby was out there looking for her. He had been out there, thinking she was dead. MJ seemed to stare at him for a moment, before nodding.

"I read about that in the papers- I'm sorry Det. Eames." MJ spoke in a worn voice, transferring her gaze to her.

"It's alright." She answered somewhat shortly – she still hated the looks she got when people realized she was the cop who had been kidnapped by a serial killer.

Running a hand through her long hair, MJ looked down at her hands, twisting them together absently. She sighed softly glancing up again. "I guess you kind of have an idea what comes next right?" She smiled wanly, taking a deep breath and continuing anyway. "I loved Mark. But now I was aware I was in love with him as well- and I didn't know what to do. The thought of a new partner terrified me. No one else would be able to calm me like him, or keep me in line, or know the way I was thinking, even if he didn't think the same way. I didn't want to lose that – but there was this voice. This little tiny voice whispering in my head – I almost did lose him anyway. And did I really want that to happen again – ten years, twenty years – hell a month down the road – and not be able to _know_? Have a long partnership and a boatload of regrets for never knowing if it could have been more? So I got really drunk one night. And I kind of told him."

"What did he say?" Alex leaned forward – pausing to wonder for a moment if she was a bit too interested in this story, but brushing it aside. She could feel Bobby's curious eyes on her, and she leaned back slightly, in an effort to appear less interested.

MJ smiled again, but it was brighter this time, and seemed to seep into her eyes, warming them. "He said 'Go get sober and tell me tomorrow.' So I did. And he felt the same, and it was- God it was more perfect than I had ever imagined. At first we agreed- we would tell the Captain right away and let the chips fall where they may. Well, Mark was agreed anyway. I kept putting it off – after this case, Mark – oh but this one really needs _us_ so after this one. And we worked together just as well- hell, maybe even better than we had before. We had always had that unspoken communication, but suddenly we were better – anticipating the others moves before they even happened- finally I just asked if we really had to tell? We were working together – better than ever – and I was selfish I guess. I didn't want to adjust to a new partner." She shifted and the cat on her lap glared at being displaced before wandering to the other end of the sofa, and curling up.

"A year into it, Mark asked me to marry him. It was his way of forcing my hand, I knew – he knew if we got married- we'd _have_ to tell, right? But I said no. And he asked again the next week, and I said no. He asked me every week for a damn year and I said no each time. I didn't see the point- we were living together- we were still working – why ruin it with marriage? Then we took vacation that year, and Mark wanted to go to Michigan of all places – like what the hell is in Michigan right?" She laughed, tears filling her eyes again and she swiped at them angrily.

"Secret marriage laws." Bobby spoke thoughtfully, and MJ looked up startled. "Right? I had -" he hesitated for a moment "- friends who got married there. Michigan has a law that enables couples to marry in the presence of a judge, but the documents are sealed and no one but them is aware they're married."

"Why would a law like that be created?" Alex wondered out loud, and Bobby turned towards her, alert.

"Lots of reasons, family feuds – work related – some people just don't want the world to know. It has all sorts of practical applications as well, such as the WPP – they can legally marry people in the program, without alias'-"

"Alright Bobby- I get the point." She spoke dryly, chuckling a bit.

"You're right Det. Goren. We got married- Mark said it was something he wanted- not because he wanted us to tell the truth, but because I was his life and he loved me. He wanted to have proof of that. He said to me ' Sita- if something happens to one of us- don't you want proof? To know that we were more than just partners?'" She pressed a hand to her mouth tightly, her voice tripping over the words. "And I said yes." she whispered softly. "And then- then the lie seemed so huge. There was no way we could tell now, right? So we didn't." She laughed, but the sound seemed strangled in her throat. "When Mark brought up kids- we both knew- we knew that once that happened, the truth would come out. We knew we might lose our jobs, but I think part of us was hoping we wouldn't. Mark would always say we could do something else- and he could have, he was so damn smart. But I- I didn't know how to do anything but be a cop, you know? I was scared, but at the same time – I wanted this. I wanted to have kids with him." Tears were streaming down her face now, and Alex handed her the box of kleenex on the table between them. MJ smiled in thanks and wiped her eyes, struggling to get her breathing under control.

"We started trying, but we had problems. I had to go see a specialist and he put me on-"

"Repronex." Alex finished softly. At MJ's startled expression she explained. "We found a syringe in the garbage."

"Yeah- it made me really moody. Mark hated that." She smiled slightly. "I was at my doctors yesterday morning. I had just found out-" her voice caught in a sob- "Found out that it worked. And we were pregnant." Pressing a hand to her abdomen, she was crying in earnest now. After a few moments, she seemed to calm and looked up at them. "It was why I kept calling him- to tell him." Rubbing her eyes she laced her hands together and for the first time Alex noticed she wasn't twisting her hands, she was twisting her wedding rings. Noticing her stare MJ smiled. "I always wore them on a long chain- but- it didn't seem right today. Now that everyone is going to find out anyway- I can wear them all the time. I can use his name now-" she gave a short bitter laugh. "I just had to lose him to do it."

Alex sat back, part of her a bit stunned by the tale they had just heard, the other part of her wasn't really shocked at all. It wasn't unusual for partners to become more deeply involved with one another – but the extent to which MJ and Mark had lied shocked her a bit. Looking down for a moment, she felt all eyes in the room resting on her. "MJ- where did you go after the doctor's? You first call was at 9:15 but you didn't arrive home until well after noon."

"I had an appointment at a day spa. Mark told me to take the day off- I think he was worried how I would take it if it didn't happen again this month. He booked me an appointment for a pedi- said I need to relax. When I couldn't get a hold of him right away, I assumed he was working- and he'd call me back anyway. But I couldn't get a hold of him all morning, and I was starting to worry. And then-" She stopped speaking abruptly, and they nodded in unison. MJ picked up a slim folder from the table next to her, handing it across to Bobby. "It's my doctor's number- and my receipt from the spa, and their number as well. I know- no I know" she waved off Bobby's protest before he even spoke. "I'm a suspect. I'm closest to him, and I'm his wife. First place to look. I get it. I just want you to eliminate me so you can concentrate on finding the real killer. I don't want this case on my desk in six months."

"It won't be." Alex spoke reassuringly. "MJ, what about other people in Mark's life? Did he have any friends, enemies.. that kind of thing?" MJ was shaking her head before Alex had even finished speaking.

"Everyone at work loved Mark. And he didn't have many friends outside work – a few Army buddies, but he hasn't seen any of them in years. I can get their names if you need. He never had any issues at work- well aside from Joe Clemmans, but he kind of hates everyone, doesn't he?" Alex snorted under her breath, Joe Clemmans worked in the records department, located in the basement of the IAB building. Everyone had crossed his path at one time or another, needing a case history pulled, and Joe was seriously cranky all the time. She always sent Bobby down to get files because of the way Joe spoke to her. Voice dripping with contempt, like because she was a woman she didn't deserve to be there.

"Yeah he does." Bobby spoke thoughtfully. "Eames won't even go get files anymore – she sends me." He rubbed his hand along his jaw thoughtfully, clearing turning the new facts over in his head. "MJ, if you don't mind, I would like those Army buddies names and contact information. It seems like whoever did this had a grudge- and if everything we hear about Mark is true- we may have to dig deeper to find it." MJ merely nodded, before standing with grace and exiting the room. Bobby turned towards her with a raised brow. "Looks like you were right Eames, I think we can safely cross MJ off our list."

"Yeah, too bad that leaves us with a big fat no one as suspects." She spoke tiredly. Glancing at the clock she saw it was after seven now. "Should we grab food on the way back to One PP?" she questioned tiredly.

"Why don't we just go to your place? We can order food, and any calls I need to make tonight can be done there. I'll- I'll even help you type up the interview." He smiled slightly and she nodded in acceptance. A moment later, MJ stepped back in the room with a printed list that she handed to Bobby. Alex stood, gathering her tape recorder and walked over to join them.

"This is my card MJ- my cell number is on the back, If you need anything, call me. I'll try to update you on what we have once a day." Alex pressed the card into MJ's hand, smiling at her gently. She remembered too well what it was like to be left out of an investigation into your husband's death. But in MJ's case it was murder- and had to be ten times harder.

"Thank you Det. Eames." MJ spoke softly, clutching the card in her hand.

"Call me Alex. And it's nothing, I just understand. You can't be involved, but I won't keep you uninformed as well."

* * *

Bobby was suspiciously quiet on the ride back to her place. When she pulled into her drive, she rested her head against the steering wheel for a moment, drinking in the silence until she couldn't stand the stillness anymore. "Bobby? What's wrong?"

He didn't answer for a moment, clearly deep in thought. "I just- I think it's wrong, I guess. That they had to be that afraid to tell the truth."

Sighing, she looked over at him, angling her head so that he entered her line of vision. "The rules are there for a reason Bobby. Partners get involved and bad things can happen. You become clouded in your judgment-"

"But what about cases like Mark and MJ, Eames? They didn't let it affect their work-"

"And who decides if it won't affect their work Bobby? Should they be evaluated by IAB and be judged? What about officers who don't quite work the normal way to begin with, do they get shot down?" Her voice was tense, aware that this debate could bring them to an uncomfortable precipice very quickly, and she tried to avoid the fall with all her might. "What I don't get is why not tell? And get it over with- sure they might have been re paired, but they might not have. Now her _job_ is in jeopardy because of a stupid lie."

"You don't get it Eames, some people- some people couldn't stand the thought of losing their partner. In a job like ours, where our work is more often than not our life- it's who we are. I am Detective Goren, and _you_ are part of that identity. Goren and Eames- one without the other means I don't know who I am anymore." She drew in a sharp breath, knew they were standing so close to the edge of this discussion that they might fall off, but the censure in his tone made her want to shove him off and damn the consequences. So instead, she unclipped her belt, getting out of the vehicle before she said something too stupid to take back. Entering her house, she left the door open, knowing he would follow her. She took calming breaths, bracing herself when she heard the door shut behind her.

"Eames, I'm-"

"No." Her tone was hard and she whirled to face him, somehow finding the strength to dredge up some good old fashioned anger. "No Bobby, you do _not _get to imply that somehow our partnership is more important to you than me and get away with it. I mean- do you have any idea what you just said?"

She stomped around her house as she spoke, ripping her coat off and removing her holster and slamming the gun on the counter top. Bobby flinched at the sound, stepping backwards when she finally turned towards him. "You basically just said that for _some people_ , people that don't include me obviously, their partner is part of who they are. So clearly you think that should we ever be split up for whatever reason, I would be fine with it. Guess what genius? _I wouldn't be._" She was startling herself with the amount of anger in her tone. She had gotten angry to avoid other, scarier emotions rolling within her, but when she latched onto the anger, it seemed to grow within her. _I have a right to be pissed. Dumbass._

Stalking up to him, she poked him in the chest, causing him to step back again. "You do not hold the corner on being unable to work with anyone else Bobby. You lost so many partners before because you drove them off- because you didn't try. Hell, you didn't even try with _me_ in the beginning, you just sat there waiting for me to take off. And you know what Bobby? I almost did. So pardon the hell out of me, if I can keep partners longer than you. I worked with some assholes- but I put up with them because I don't quit. I dig my heels in and get stubborn, and prove that I am every bit as good as the idiot I work with."

"You're right. " Bobby held his hands up in surrender, looking at her like she was about to shoot him.

"You're damn right I am!- wait- what?" She stopped in confusion, glaring up at him.

"You're right. My methods drive partners away, and I don't exactly try to keep them. I always thought I worked better alone, but not now. You stayed, and I know different now, I didn't work better alone. I work better with you. I guess I just assumed that you would be able to move on if we got split up- I – I don't know why I thought that." He was leaning down towards her, stooping to look her in the eye, because she had kicked off her shoes when she came in. "I'm – I'm sorry."

She stared at him for a moment, wanting to giggle at the comical image of this huge man crouching in front of her. A smile crossed her face and she sighed. "It's fine Bobby. I just- listen this case- it's going to bring up issues. For both of us. I just- I don't-" She stopped , rubbing a hand over her hair and sighing. She was just so damn tired.

"I don't either." Bobby spoke softly, before straightening up and crossing the room to her jacket. Searching her pockets he pulled out her recorder, and wandered over to her coffee table, opening the laptop there. "You call for food. I'm going to type this interview up. And if you could call Carver and see if we can get Mark's military records subpoenaed, that would be great." Shrugging his coat off, he lowered himself to the floor, unfolding his long legs under the coffee table and starting the recorder. She smiled at the gesture, sending up a silent thanks for being able to avoid disaster. Turning in her socked feet, she headed to the kitchen, deciding to make something instead of calling for takeout. If Bobby was making an effort, she could as well.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Again, thanks for all the many reviews, I love getting them and they make me write faster - if possible, lol.

Disclaimer: I don't own them - just playing in Dick Wolf's sandbox.

* * *

She glared at the paperwork in front of her, as if willing it to disappear on it's own, or better yet – magically spit out the answer to the riddle that had been plaguing them. Upon receiving Collier's military records – which she had to argue with Carver for a damn hour on the phone about, which resulted in her ultimately tossing the phone at Bobby's head and letting him deal with the infuriating ADA – they had set about contacting an old Army buddies. All responses were the same – they had all liked Mark , he was a great guy, but they hadn't seen him in years. And no one was discussing what types of missions he had participated in, and half of the files were blacked out. "Real helpful." she muttered to herself staring at a file page all the harder to see if somehow she could decipher an entire page of noting but I's, and's, and the's.

Sighing in disgust she pushed the paper away from her and leaned back in her chair. Dragging her hands down her face she groaned aloud in a low tone. For three days they had been running into a brick wall. Repetitively. It was depressing, but what was more depressing was that everyday she called MJ – with nothing to say. It was taking it's toll on Bobby as well – they had no leads to follow, no avenues to pursue , and it just wasn't that often that they were stumped by a case. Ever. Sitting back up straight, she ran a hand across the back of her neck, pressing into the tight muscle there before bringing it around her throat. "We need more."

Bobby didn't look up from where his head was bowed over the DoD paperwork, his chin resting on his hand and his large frame hunched over the desk. "We don't have more." His voice was half a mumble and half a distracted sound, replying for the sake of replying to let her know that he was listening. Things had been- while not tense between them, certainly not normal either. They hadn't discussed the fraternization aspect of the case again, and had moved on. He frustrated her by moving back, pulling away from her on a certain level- one that she hadn't even realized existed until he pointed it out to her by not providing it anymore. They still were able to communicate with few words, but Bobby had stopped doing certain things. Reading over her shoulder- hovering around in her personal space, as a result, she felt uncomfortable leaning on his desk and reading as he pointed out things, they were no more hands guiding her to destinations, just Goren standing a solid foot behind her.

She never realized how much she anticipated the contact until it was gone. She understood why , of course she did. She knew the way he thought – he worried that he had pushed too much the other night and over compensated for it by maintaining _proper_ professional distance. And she went along with him, because not to would force a conversation she wasn't ready to have. So she dealt with him like a petulant three year old. Ignored what he was doing, and hoped that he would just stop trying to prove his point. Sighing, she brought her attention to the task at hand. "I know that." she muttered irritably.

"Goren! Eames! My-"

"Office, now." They mumbled together, shooting a look at one another that was slightly amused before entering their Captain's office. Ross didn't precisely help matters , he was much more hands on than Deakins had been. He wanted progress reports, he wanted theory reports , he wanted to be involved as much as possible. Deakins had worked with she and Goren long enough to know when to get involved and when to just back off and let Goren work. Sighing as she closed the door behind her, she knew it would probably take Ross more than a little while to learn, and frankly she was sick of being the buffer.

Ross sat behind his desk heavily and threw a familiar slim folder at them. She sat up , glaring at it as it lay on an awkward angle on his desk. "Sir, you're assigning us a new case? Because-"

Ross held up a tired hand. "Don't I wish Eames. No, there's been another murder. Officer Daniel Jones – he rode streets down in the 53. Found in his home, tied to his bed, shot twice and cut up. I want you two-" he stared at them with serious eyes - "to go there and _please_ tell me that this is a different killer, and I do _not_ have a serial cop killer out there roaming my streets. You got me?"

They nodded numbly, standing in unison and moving towards the door. Doubling back, she grabbed the file from his desk, before meeting Bobby outside and taking her coat from his waiting hands. Entering the elevator, they were silent, both praying that they didn't have a serial – praying that someone wasn't hunting the cops of New York. Shivering slightly, she tried to deflect some of her own thoughts with her usual twisted humor. "I guess I should be careful what I wish for."

* * *

As soon as they walked into the crime scene, she knew that it wasn't just another murder, but was their guy. The apartment looked clean, well as clean as a single man's apartment got anyway- there was nothing disturbed, just a half a cup of coffee on the kitchen counter. She grabbed a CSU tech and told them to bag it – and the entire coffee carafe, before turning towards the bedroom to find her partner.

Goren was once again, hunched over the body, deep in discussion with the ME. Spread out in a similar fashion, he had been shot twice and once again, the carvings were all over his torso and arms. She watched as Bobby grasped the officers forearm in his grip his gloved fingers hovering over the wounds there, measuring them against his hand span. She walked around the room, trying to get a feel for it. It was a rather spartan room, nothing but the bed and night table for furniture, no magazines, no books- except she noticed a bible laying on the nightstand next to the victim. Sighing, she stepped out of the room, giving the CSU's more room, and exited the apartment to find most of the 53rd precinct milling around the hall. A man walked up to her, his hair graying and his portly frame protesting.

"Detective? I'm Lt. Will Carnes." He shook her hand firmly and shook his head sadly as she nodded. "Anything you need from me or my guys – let me know."

"Thank you Lieutenant." She pulled her pen out of her pocket, quickly followed by her notepad. " Did you notice anything odd in Officer Jones' behavior recently?"

"No, he was pretty well liked – a bit of an ass at times, but a good cop. He's been with the 53 for seven years now. He and his partner graduated from the Academy together. They did their training, and were paired afterwards. They had a lot of good collars, hardly ever argued either." His tone was matter of fact, and she could see he was the type of higher up that didn't get deeply involved with his officers. Sighing inwardly, she nodded, and moved over to a pair of men standing not too far from the corner. They didn't see her approach, and were talking amongst themselves as she came upon them.

"-not that I'm surprised, but ya'd think Hope woulda noticed if something was going on with him. It is her job-"

"Yeah, and you damn well know she pays enough _attention_-" She cleared her throat and both men jumped, startled. She resisted the urge to make a jab about their instincts, and simply introduced herself with a serious face. When she asked them the same question, they glanced at one another nervously.

"Danny was a good cop m'am." The taller officer spoke roughly. She winced at the m'am but didn't take any notice of it. "Or he _was_ a good cop – 'til Hope screwed him up-"

"Man, she's an officer too. Shut up." The younger of the two tried to quell his partner's tendency to talk, but the older man disregarded him.

"Yeah- and Danny was fine until they started fighting. All of a sudden he's losing concentration on the job- not paying attention like he should. Hell he almost got us killed the other day. And Hope? She doesn't listen. We told her- that she was screwing him up- and she laughed. _Laughed _about how he didn't give a shit- or somethin' like that. Screwed up man, that's what it is. Having a woman as a partner is worse than havin' a wife. If your partner's more work than your job – it's time to move on. That's what I said to Danny but he didn't listen-" At that the man shrugged as if to say 'and look at where he is now.' She bite the inside of her cheek, trying to count backwards and remember that clocking a fellow officer would not look good on her record.

"Hope cared about Danny though-" the younger man stepped in front of his partner as if sensing her hostility. "They'd been together forever- helped each other through the Academy from what I heard. He was really there for her when her husband passed away two years ago- she has two kids too. She wouldn't have done anything to hurt him, is all I'm sayin'." He finished off lamely and she nodded, asking their names before continuing on down the hall. Four interviews later, she learned a whole lot of nothing- but the fact that most of the precinct apparently thought Officer Jones and his partner were sleeping together. The only dissension among them was when the affair had started. Before or after her husband died. When she finally reached the end of the hall, and the woman slumped against the wall there, she was tired, and sure that Goren was probably pacing around inside, dying to get back to One PP and his insights about the murder.

"Officer Hope Yellis?" The woman on the floor looked up, her eyes red rimmed and her face pale. She wasn't exactly standardly pretty – her hair was medium length, and a washed out blonde. Her nose was slightly too big, but her eyes were a pretty cornflower blue, wide set and fringed with dark lashes.

"Yeah- yes, that's me. Can I help you?" Alex nodded and sank down to the floor beside the woman, not wanting to make her get up. Besides, it gave the slight illusion of privacy. None of the many men milling around even glanced in their direction. Alex glared around her, and looked at Yellis with pity – her job was not about to get easier.

"I'm Detective Eames from MCS. I wanted to ask you a few questions?" Yellis nodded tiredly, and Alex looked at her with sympathy. "Had you noticed anything unusual in the last few days? In Officer Jones' behavior or-"

"We fought." She whispered , her voice tight and low. "Shit- I was pissed at him. And it was so damn stupid."

"What did you fight about?"

"What didn't we fight about? It started – it was stupid, ya know? He was distracted on the job- and I was yelling at him, I guess. He was going out way too late the night before shifts- he'd been drinking more- he was seeing girl after girl- one night and they'd be gone-"

Alex made a note in her book, surprised at this information. Some of it must have shown on her face because Yellis sighed beside her.

"It's not true ya know- Danny and I- we were best friends. Honestly he was such a help after Bill passed-" She paused for a moment, sniffing. "He helped with the house and the kids- I have two. A girl and a boy. Molly's eleven and Joey's sixteen. Danny, he would really help with them- especially Joey. He was gettin' in trouble at school and Danny was just always there. But we weren't sleeping together, despite what they told ya." She jerked her head towards the men lining the corridor. "They just didn't get it, ya know? How Danny and I were so close, and _nothing_ was happening. They just saw we were so close, and assumed. Hell, a few of them even reported us- but they couldn't prove anything, because it wasn't true. At least.." She trailed off uncertainly, here eyes staring down at the floor for a moment before she glanced up.

"What caused the change in his behavior then? The drinking.. the women.." Alex asked a bit tentatively, not sure what the answer would be.

"He-" Yellis' voice dropped to a whisper and Alex had to lean forward to hear her. "He told me that he _was_ interested in me. That he loved the kids and wanted to try a relationship. And I-" she pressed a hand to her face to muffle a sob in her throat. "-I told him no. That our partnership and friendship was worth more to me than what would end up being a short lived roll in the hay. He got- so angry. He yelled for a bit and then kind of got.. defeated I guess. Said he should have expected it. And he left. After that he was just .. gone."

"Gone how?" Alex asked with a slight frown.

"Oh he was there- at work, everyday in the car. But he wasn't _there_ if you know what I mean. He didn't talk to me about anything outside of work. He didn't touch me, didn't come near me. It was like riding with a freaking ghost." At this point she pressed her face into her hands, trying desperately to get a handle on herself. Alex glanced at her, wincing in pain. She was trying so hard to keep herself tough- she didn't want to break down in front of the asses she worked with every day. Alex took out her card, pressing it into her trembling hands.

"One more thing-" she paused glancing at the shaken woman beside her. "Was Danny religious at all?"

"No." Yellis frowned next to her. "The kids and I would drag him to midnight mass once a year – but that was it. Why?" Alex just shook her head, an idea forming in the back of her mind but refusing to fully surface.

"All right – if you think of anything else- let us know." She stood, placing a hand on the small of her back as it protested the crouching. Yellis nodded, keeping her head down so that her hair curtained her face, covering her from view. Alex sighed before walking back through the hall, resisting the urge to punch a few idiots along the way, before entering the apartment to find Goren hovering anxiously, waiting to pounce. Shrugging wordlessly, she motioned for him to follow her to the car, before sliding behind the wheel and driving them back to One PP and the various theories Bobby no doubt had racing around his head.

* * *

"ME's report was the same Eames- Rohypnol, perimortem cutting – no sign of sexual assault. This is our guy." Bobby was pacing in front of a new white board. This one covered with a profile- one that they were currently arguing over.

"I didn't say it wasn't Goren- but I think that you're approaching this wrong-"

"_Both_ murders targeted the men- both used a drug to make them docile- why- why would a man do that?" Hie hands waved agitatedly as he paced and she almost became more still in response to his overabundance of movement.

"So men only kill women?" She arched a brow slightly, her tone dry.

"No- but I just- I think this is a woman. It would explain why she doesn't cut them while they're alive. The blood- it bothers her-"

"Hell Goren, I know twenty men easily who would pass out at the sight of blood. That's not a reason to narrow the gender down." He swung, turning towards her abruptly and leaning down, bracing his arms on the back of the chair opposite her.

"Why men then? Why male victims?"

"How the hell do I know? Maybe he has a deep seated self hatred and he expresses it by killing other men in effigy?" She paused for a moment, blinking slightly and looking up at him with a shocked expression. "Alright I am spending way too much time with you-"

"No- it's- it's a good theory. Fine. We'll leave it gender neutral and see how it pans out." He swung back to the board, scrawling more information on it. She sighed watching him, her mouth twisting in a half smile. She could fill a library with the things they never said to each other- the issues she skated around like a professional figure skater dancing across a pond with thin ice. Careful not to drown. Things like how she thought that he was really trying to sell the idea that this was a woman, because he missed it with Jo Gage. How she knew he was pulling away- but didn't talk about it, because then they'd have to discuss why. That was a conversation she would run screaming from.

"Alright-" she spoke brusquely as she shuffled the pages in front of her. "Parallels are, so far- both white males, both in the age range of 35-45, both police officers, both partnered with females. One was involved with his partner, the other was not- but wanted to be. Both drugged, both possibly knew the assailant, as there was no sign of struggle-"

"Which means that the military side was a dead end. Whoever is doing this knew them through the NYPD." Silence met his words, and she felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.

"Which means we need to look on the inside." She stated the obvious conclusion flatly. No officer, no matter how high or low in the NYPD – no one wanted to cross that thin blue line. The one she and Bobby were about to jump on and kick at like schoolyard kids with a cockroach they'd found.

"Shit." Bobby lowered himself into the chair heavily, landing with a thud and causing a gust of wind to scatter the various notes and photos on the table between them. She began picking up the ones that fell to the floor, gathering the stack of photos and placing them in order, spread across the desk. Frowning she glanced at the photo of Jones' body.

"Hey- did they take that bible as evidence?" She flipped through the photos looking for a close up of it.

"Yeah- it had some blood evidence on it – why?" Bobby glanced over at her as she rifled through the pictures.

"I asked his partner if he was particularly religious- and she said no. I don't think it's his, I think-"

"-it was left by the killer?" He finished her thought as he pulled a close up of the book in question out of the pile with all the flourish of a magician, his nimble fingers plucking it from thin air. She rounded the table, placing a hand on the back of his chair, and leaning over his shoulder as they peered at the photo intently. "You know-" Bobby glanced back at her, angling his face towards her as she stared. "- this could be a sign. Perhaps the killer is as frustrated as we are that we didn't immediately identify the reason for these killings. She left us a clue."

"Clue or not, we need a better look at that bible." she muttered, her eyes meeting his and pausing for a moment. They seemed frozen that way for a moment- his eyes apologetic and begging forgiveness. She must have given it, because his body relaxed at the acceptance in her eyes and he stood, reaching behind her for his coat and hers.

"Time to go see CSU again." She rolled her eyes slightly, and followed him out the door. Ross saw their progress across the bullpen and came to stand in his office doorway. Goren barely glanced at him as he plowed through the detectives in his way, so she merely shrugged apologetically at the Captain, and followed in the wake of parted bodies that Bobby created.

* * *

Forty minutes later they found themselves ensconced in a small room in the CSU lab, their gloves on as Bobby broke the evidence seal on the bag containing the bible. CSU told them it had been dusted with no results, but the blood on it hadn't been tested yet, so they could only look here, in the lab.

As the worn leather book slid onto the counter, she leaned over examining it. It was a New International version of the bible- it's spine cracked and worn, giving it a well used air. She looked up at Bobby who was studying the blood pattern on it, frowning.

"It doesn't look like spatter does it?" He mumbled thoughtfully, pointing to certain spots on the cover. "It's smudged, almost more like-" Their eyes met and she spoke for him.

"Transfer." She took the edge of the cover in her hand gently and pried the bible open. The edges of the pages were bloody, with marks on the edge.

"Blood on his hands as he flipped. He was looking for a – a certain page- or a passage?" Bobby spoke quickly as his gloved hands flipped through the pages nimbly. Finally he reached a page and stopped suddenly, the amount of blood on the page clearly indicating that this was what the killer sought. "Ecclesiastes 7:26" He spoke softly, reading from the page.

"I find more bitter than death  
the woman who is a snare,  
whose heart is a trap  
and whose hands are chains.  
The man who pleases God will escape her,  
but the sinner she will ensnare."

When he had finished, he glanced up at her in silence. "He blames- the men for falling prey to the women. They 'snared' the men, but if the men hadn't been susceptible to sin – they would have been spared."

"How in the hell would he know, though?" she found her voice after a moment of silence. "Mark and MJ – no one knew- and Jones and Yellis- well it was just assumed. But they were wrong."

"I don't know." Bobby spoke softly, copying the passage onto a scrap of paper from his binder. "Maybe he was watching them? Or saw them routinely?"

"Yellis said- she said that someone reported her and Jones, but IAB couldn't prove anything so it was dropped-" She frowned as she spoke, and Bobby looked up excitedly.

"Maybe- maybe someone reported Collier and Casas too? Maybe they thought they were careful but they weren't?" They straightened glancing at each other, and then down at the book between them.

"We need those IAB files." She spoke softly, the sound harsh in the silent hush of the room.

"We need to tell Ross we're looking in the department before we do that." Bobby answered her slowly, with a flat tone to his voice.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" She questioned hopefully. He looked down at her with a raised brow. "Or I could handle it." She sighed, following him out of the lab and watching as he instructed the female CSU to photograph the pages they found and send them over asap. She practically fell over herself to get it done, rushing into the room behind them with a sigh and a smile. She frowned fiercely at his back as she followed him down the hall to the SUV and a meeting she would give her eye teeth not to have to tackle. "You owe me- BIG." she muttered as she slid behind the wheel. He merely smiled over at her, holding his hands up in an 'I surrender' position and giving her the same boyish grin he had used on the CSU tech in the lab. She just glared harder before turning away and shooting out of the parking lot.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Look - practically short by my standards, lol. Once again - I am loving the reviews- keep them up.

Disclaimer: L&O:CI and its characters are property of NBC and Dick Wolfe. I'm just playing.

* * *

"Are you honestly telling me – telling me that not only do I have a whacko who's running around killing members of the NYPD – but that _you two_ have come to the conclusion it's an inside job?! And you want me to do what with this? Have a coronary?" She frowned, watching Ross rise up in anger from his desk, his face a slight purplish color. _I am so killing Bobby for making me do this._

"No sir. I expect you to contact the DA so we can subpoena the IAB's files on the victims. We need to know if there's a connection-"

"_Two_ victims does not a connection make, Detective Eames. You don't even know if the first victim _was_ reported to the IAB-" He spoke rapidly, his hands on his hips and his eyes slightly wild. All in all, Alex decided that Ross pissed looked slightly like a possessed chia pet.

"And we won't know unless we get those files. What would you have us do, Captain? Wait for a third cop to die to get the connection?! Goren and I are _right_- and if we wait on those files and another cop dies because of it-" She had stood up now too, glaring at the Captain and standing toe to toe with him on the cheap gray carpet. She was actually somewhat enjoying this – it was nice to be able to glare straight instead of straight up.

"Fine! Fine – but this is out of my hands. You want those records, convince Carver your damn self! Now get out!" He bellowed, pointing at the door. She knew better than to press, and took her escape when offered, but his voice halted her at the door. "One other thing Eames-" Ross bit out shortly. "If you _ever_ speak to me in that tone again-"

"Yes sir." She spoke dully before yanking the door open with as much force as she could muster and stepping outside of it, clicking it silently back into place. Striding across to her desk, she smacked the top of it twice as she passed over to the coat rack behind it. Bobby glanced up at the noise and waited for her explanation. Throwing him his coat, she pulled her own on. "Ross is pissed- told us to go to Carver ourselves." He stood, nodding and throwing his coat over himself as they walked. It billowed out around them like a cape, and she smirked slightly. "Oh and Batman? Robin's out of this one. I talked to Ross- _you_ can handle Carver."

"Eames!" He stopped slightly, glaring at her and opening and shutting his mouth a few times. "I can't do that- you know Carver dislikes me-"

"Holy rusted metal Batman! Really?!" She gasped in mock surprise, before shoving him into the elevator forcefully and jabbing the button once he was trapped inside.

"Eames.." his voice was suspiciously whine like and she stared ahead, not daring to look at him in case he used any of those half grins he knew she was weak against.

"No. It's your turn."

He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Well- what am I supposed to say?"

"What else? Tell him your bat signal went off."

* * *

The chuckle rolled throughout the room, smooth and deep – like honey. Ron Carver was many things- most of them not so nice- but he had a voice like sin. She sat back, sinking more deeply into the chair she currently occupied, and watched as Bobby paced around Carver like a caged tiger, his voice grumbling and pointing out the evidence- such as it was. Carver just leaned against his big mahogany desk, arms crossed over his chest and an expression of disbelief written on his face.

"You want me to take that to a judge? Get sealed department files for you? Do I look like a magician to you, detective?" He stared at Goren , peering at him as he remained still, perched on the end of the desk like some bizarre bird of prey.

"I'd say more of an illusionist- you've got that crazy stare-" She spoke for the first time since entering the office, and Bobby almost choked at her words, but he recovered nicely enough to glare at her. She just grinned, and folded her hands together in front of her.

"We need those files- if we're right-"

"And really, how often have we been wrong?" she quipped dryly from her seated position.

"-if we're right-" Bobby carried on as though she hadn't spoken "-this is cop's lives we are talking about here. This was a _clue_, a clue left for us by a killer who is asking to be caught. We can't do that without you."

"I can't promise anything, Goren. I'll speak to one of the more.. favorable judges- but I may or may not get the court order for you. I'll let you know when I do." Carver sighed gently, waving an arm to indicate that he wanted them gone. She stood, and walked ahead of Bobby out of the office. Just before they reached the door, she felt it- his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the door, leaning around her and opening it. She smiled to herself, a full fledged grin – and chuckled slightly. It was a sign – that he was moving past the argument they had the other night. That things could maybe survive this case- and they could carry on like always.

"So we don't have much to do until we get the files-" His voice rumbled out from behind her as they walked through the marble filled halls together. "How about lunch?"

She heard her stomach growl at the mention of food, and grinned. "I think lunch would be fantastic." They exited the building into bright sunshine, and glanced around. She suggested the deli close by- they would be able to pick the subpoena for the files up on the way back – hopefully.

As they ordered and settled into a small window table – Bobby liked to be able to people watch in those moments when they were silent together. She ate quickly, and found herself watching him as she did so. It wasn't unusual for them to have what she called 'silent meals'. The silence was never oppressive or uncomfortable in any way- it was always just silent. They both usually turned thoughts of the case over in their heads, and sometimes, Bobby would stare at the people rushing back and forth outside, and file observations about them away in the great encyclopedia in his head.

Today though, the case wasn't at the forefront of her mind – obviously it was there, hovering in the background, like a song you listen to while driving. She could still drive and sing to the song – and likewise she could still observe Bobby and think about the case. He was eating slower than she had- so the first thing she noticed were his hands. They were large- one could almost cover her whole face , she was sure – but they were surprisingly nimble. They moved swiftly, and yet with an odd grace that one didn't usually find in a man. Even when he spoke with them, they seemed to dance around him as he spoke, rather than them waving around in your face.

"What?" His voice startled her and she jumped slightly before looking up – trying not to be embarrassed as he watched her curiously. "You- you're staring."

"Sorry," she smiled slightly. "Stuck in a thought, I guess."

He leaned forward slightly, crushing a napkin in his hands as he did so, and then dropping it on the table next to him. "Penny for them?" he questioned with a small half smile.

"Please-" she snorted slightly. "Believe me when I say you can't afford me." He laughed slightly, and held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. Leaning back, he glanced out the window and bit his lip thoughtfully.

"I wonder how MJ is doing." He spoke quietly, and she brought her eyes up to his face, seeing the concern there- along with the slightly distracted look he wore when forced to think on things outside of the job.

"As good as can be expected I suppose. I call her every day." She answered softly, picking up the napkin he had dropped and fiddling with it for a moment before dropping it abruptly. He would notice her nervous twitching – he always did.

"You do? I didn't know that." He sounded surprised, as if he couldn't possibly ever not know something. She laughed shortly under her breath – _you'd be surprised at what you don't know about me._

"Yeah- I just- I guess I remember what it's like to not know what really happened. It makes you feel useless, and impotent- so I call her. Not that I've had a lot to tell her lately-"

His eyes moved over to study her face, and she fought to keep her expression neutral. She stared back, feeling a surge of annoyance when she saw it- that light he got in his eyes when analyzing and profiling someone. Taking in reactions, discovering a reason for the response and filing it away. She glared at him, and he leaned back again, looking back outside at the people running around on the cold blustery day. They were silent for a moment, each just staring off, trapped within their own thoughts.

"Eames?" Bobby glanced over at her suddenly, leaning forward once again, and resting his arms on the cracked linoleum of their table. She froze for a moment, hearing his thoughts within that one word- stressed and deep and slightly crazed as he finally allowed them to boil up and over- out of his throat. Sighing slightly, she looked at him, leaning forward as well.

"Let's walk Bobby." She stood suddenly and strode out of the deli, leaving him to trail behind her confused. She glanced up and down the street before finally just going left- she could walk around the block. It would be fine. He caught up to her, looking down at her and pulling his coat closed as he did so.

"Eames-" There was that tone again- the one that said he'd been chewing on a thought for days, weeks, possibly months and now he was going to say it, no matter what.

Sighing , she halted mid step, turning towards him as he pulled back just short of walking into her. "What Bobby?" She knew that he wouldn't let it go, so she just resigned herself to the fact that she had to let him talk – and hopefully fix whatever he was about to break.

"I been thinking lately – do we know each other? Well, would you say?" She was almost tempted to laugh out loud, but she could see by the way he was huddled over her, the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes that he was serious.

"Depends on your definition of the term, I suppose. I know you Bobby- I know how you work, how you take your coffee, what size clothes you wear, and who your tailor is. I know a thousand different little things about you, but that doesn't mean I know _you_. We don't- really share a lot of the personal details most partners do- but I'd like to think that I know what kind of person you are- and you know me." She took her time, answering in starts and stops, trying to really think of an answer that would satisfy him, and yet avoid those ever present potholes lining the road they walked together.

"Should we? Talk about more personal things?" he wondered aloud, staring down at her like a small child asking permission from it's mother. She ran a hand over her face and looked up at him, trying to word her response carefully.

"I've always assumed, Bobby – that we have certain- boundaries in our partnership. Boundaries are there for a reason, even if it's a reason we never discuss. I know that if I ever needed you – you'd be there, no questions asked. And I think you know that too." She spoke quietly, knowing that he hovered so close he could hear her, despite the masses of people surrounding them and the traffic behind them.

"Is it enough?" His eyes searched hers and she fought the urge to turn away, and hide any response from him. She knew he could read her well – it would be pointless to try.

"I don't know Bobby. Let me ask you something. Why don't you ever call me by my name?" She stared up at him expectantly, neatly turning the tables in the conversation. He opened his mouth and paused, before closing it and shrugging silently. He couldn't answer her because the answer would be too dangerous. Just like she couldn't answer him for the same reason. It wasn't enough, and she knew that. But it had to be- it was all she had. And he knew his reasons for always calling her Eames- she could only begin to guess at what they were – but whatever they were, he didn't want to share.

"Alright, you win." He stepped back, and she felt the loss of his warmth as the wind snaked around him and tugged at her. She shook her head silently, knowing she hadn't won, but she was fighting for something more than he was. Their jobs were their lives- both of them. And she had appointed herself protector of those lives. Even if she had to protect them from him. His phone rang, shattering the moment, and he answered it with a bemused expression. Turning to her, he grinned like a school boy. "Come on – we have some files to go collect- and no you're not making me go alone again."

* * *

She pushed open the door slowly, not wanting to go into the records room – it's files all lining the walls in shelves and larger boxes towards the back. Every complaint filed, every piece of evidence filed, noted, summarized, it was all housed in the basement of the IAB building. It was a huge cavern of information- _and probably Bobby's wet dream._ She smiled reluctantly – it was half the reason she always sent him. And the other half-

"Whadda ya want?" a shout rang out, startling her out of her thoughts. The other half was Joe Clemmans. Clemmans was a fifty plus year old man, who has been injured in the line of duty – and shoved down here as a result. Bobby leaned against the counter grinning.

"Hey Joe- we uh- we need some IAB files, on a Theresita Casa, a Mark Collier, a Hope Yellis and a Daniel Jones." He pushed the list across the counter and Joe studied it silently for a moment before glaring up at Bobby.

"This for that cop killing case?" His voice was gruff and she watched as he glared past Bobby to her. Sighing inwardly, she stepped forward.

"Yes- so could you get the files, _please_?" She gritted her teeth as his eyes traveled over her with contempt. Joe was old school – had been with the force forever. His views on female cops wasn't exactly PC – and he showed it unapologetically. Ignoring her and turning to Bobby he spoke slowly, as if talking to a child.

"You know I can't just hand these over. Cop killer or not- those are IAB and my ass would be grass if I gave em to ya." He slammed the list on the counter and crossed his arms in front of him. With his thinning hair and barrel like chest, he looked like a older version of popeye. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and shove a pipe in his mouth- it would be better than her running behind the counter and kicking him in the shins- or elsewhere- anyway.

"Really?" She pouted, playing the dumb card. Reaching into her pocket she slammed a piece of paper on the counter. "Maybe this warrant will help. I don't know- what do you think Bobby?" She turned to Bobby, smiling slightly and opening her eyes wide, deferring to him with her body language.

"It should cover it, I think." Bobby looked over at Joe, who glared at her viciously before grabbing the paper and inspecting it carefully. His standards must have been satisfied because he slapped the paper on the counter and spun on his heel, stalking down the rows of files like an angry peacock. She choked on a slight laugh, and watched as he quickly pulled the four files.

"Eames." Bobby's voice was a whisper in her ear, his tone a warning and she rolled her eyes at it. At that moment Clemmans slammed the files on the counter, and shoved a clip board at them.

"You need to sign em out." She stepped forward picking up the pen and filling out her name and badge number followed by Bobby's. She could hear Cleammans muttering above her as she signed with a flourish and slid the paper along to Bobby. He too signed, not bothering to check if the information was right- she had filed enough claims and reports that he knew she probably knew his badge number better than he did. She gathered the files, smiling sweetly at Clemmans , who all but spat at her.

"Thanks so much Mr. Clemmans. The service here is _so_ fantastic." She breathed out and smothered another laugh as she turned towards the door feeling his eyes bore into her back. Once they were in the SUV, Bobby glared at her reproachfully.

"He's almost retired Eames. And he was hurt in the line of duty for Christ's sake."

"He's a chauvinistic pig who needs to take a happy pill or twelve million." She drove steadily, smiling at Bobby's attempts to make her feel guilty. He just shook his head and opened the files in front of him eagerly, scanning the contents.

Once they arrived back at the bullpen, and had hung their coats and retreated to their room- they sat down, and puled the files in front of them. Bobby divided them up – he took Yellis and Collier's and gave her Jones' and MJ's- which was about an inch thick. She glared at him briefly before burying her nose in the file.

"They were reported." Bobby muttered, pulling a sheet from Collier's files and waving it. "And would you look at who reported them- their Captain."

"Hmm.. and of course he never said a word." She spoke dryly, scanning through the many pages of MJ's file quickly before moving on to Jones'. "Jones and Yellis were reported – get this- _seven_ times for fraternization. Each complaint filed by a different member of the precinct. How nice." She pulled the complaints out as she spoke, eying each report carefully.

"They were- all looked into but closed due to lack of evidence of fraternization." Bobby spoke from the opposite side of the table.

"Because there was no evidence." She laughed shortly. "Idiots." She paused for a moment, before looking up in surprise. "Hey Bobby- do you see this? Every single report was investigated by Detective Jonas Smyth. That's odd, isn't it? I mean having the same investigator- every time?" She glanced at Bobby who was digging through the file in front of him, nodding and an excited look covering his face.

"Not only that – but look-" he pulled a piece of paper triumphantly from Collier's file. "- he investigated Mark and MJ too. And look-" he jabbed his finger at the report, waving it excitedly in front of her. She sighed and grabbed his wrist to still his hand so she could read the report without getting a headache.

"It was filed two weeks before Collier was killed. That's what we call timing. Nothing unusual happened my ass, Captain." She muttered to herself before meeting Bobby's eyes.

"I think we need to get ourselves another meeting with captain Sims." Bobby spoke first, breaking the short silence.

"A second date- I'm sure he'll be _thrilled_." She spoke dryly, before standing to go to their desks. "I'll call him – you go find as much info on Smyth as you can- see if he fits the profile. I'll swing by and warn the Captain on my way back." She spoke in an excited tone- finally they seemed to be getting somewhere. She glanced back at the door, only to see Bobby with his head bent towards the laptop screen, already searching for more information on Smyth- searching for that one piece of information that would make the pieces of the puzzle all click.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Again thanks for all the reviews - you guys are making me feel grat about this story- despite it being my first foray into the crime genre, lol.

Disclaimer: I do not own them, just take em out to play every once in a while.

* * *

"Sims is here – are you ready?" Bobby spoke softly, bending down to her ear so his voice was barely a level above a whisper. She glanced back, an eyebrow raised , and watched as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, his hands tucked in his pockets and that gleam in his eye. The 'interrogation' gleam. Neither one of them really had Sims pegged as the murderer – but at the very least he had hindered their investigation – he should have told them.

"Aren't I always?" She murmured back, holding the manila file folder housing the complaint filed in front of her. She could literally _feel_ the excitement rolling off him in waves, and it seemed to seep into her, making her own heart race. She fought to remain calm though – at the very least, she could never be more agitated than Bobby during their interrogations, and at best it paid for her to be the calm , centered one. _God help us the day Bobby needs to be the calm one._ She rolled her eyes slightly, turning on her heel so that she faced him. He drew back slightly.

"Bobby-" she began tightly, trying to figure out how exactly to word what she was about to say. She faltered, and the words didn't seem to materialize, so she wound up just staring into his eyes for a moment. He watched her watch him for a brief second, before nodding his head, and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Eames, stop trying to think of how to say it- I already know. Sims is a Captain, and while he's technically breaking the law, we have no proof he's directly involved. Low key. I got it." He bent slightly as he spoke, the way he often did while addressing her, making her smile involuntarily. She had never met a tall person who went so out of their way to make shorter people feel more comfortable.

"Alright – that made it easier." She grinned wryly before turning and walking towards the interrogation room, with Bobby hot on her trail. He opened the door for her, and they walked in to find a very angry Captain Sims pacing the interrogation room.

"Why in the hell am I here, detectives?" He snapped, whirling and glaring as they entered the room. Bobby was silent, merely holding a hand up and smiling before pulling out a chair and offering it to her. She sat with a smile, and placed the file on the table in front of her – closed. Bobby chose to walk over to the corner directly opposite her, and leaned his large frame against the wall there, his arms crossed.

"You told us if we had any further questions.." Alex was the one who answered sweetly with a smile, her arms spread out from her sides in a 'what can you do?' gesture.

"I know that!" Sims snapped, continuing his pacing, back and forth, back and forth. She almost got dizzy just watching him. Oddly enough, Bobby just stood still, like a giant statue against the wall. It disconcerted her slightly to see him unmoving, but she brushed the feeling off and looked at Sims, whose face was a rather interesting shade of mottled reds and pinks. "Why am I in an _interrogation_ room?"

"It's where we put the- persons of interest." Bobby spoke haltingly from his corner, his form unnaturally quiet.

"Persons of interest? I am not stupid Detective Goren – am I a suspect? Why in the hell would you think I killed Mark?" Sims broke his pacing suddenly, opting to yank the other chair out and sit forcefully, his palms on the table, pressing against the cold metal so tightly that his knuckles turned white. _Interesting._

"Of course not sir!" Alex was all smiles again, attempting to assuage Sims' anger, and diffuse the tension a bit. "But you know how it is – we hit a snag in the investigation, and we want to check all the information – and naturally we like a third and fourth pair of eyes checking with us. It seemed pointless to have such a- _crowded_ interview, don't you think?" She leaned forward slightly as she spoke, a conspiratorial smile teasing her lips, and she felt his eyes travel over her as he relaxed slightly.

"Well, I guess when you put it that way Detective-" he smiled as he spoke, sliding his palms out along the table until his hands were within inches of her. She watched him carefully, but wasn't worried. Bobby was almost directly behind Sims now, having inched along the back wall.

"Alright." She smiled once more, lowering her lashes and peeking through them coyly, all the while wanting to hurry up and get this over with. As much as she teased Bobby about never getting to be the 'good' cop – in reality she hated playing it. It was almost always for male suspects – and frankly she preferred being allowed to be who she was. A sarcastic bitch who would kick your ass if you didn't give the information she was looking for. "We wanted to ask again, Captain Sims – if there were any unusual cases Collier was working? Or any tension at work – reports, that kind of thing?" She gritted her teeth and smiled at him as she spoke. They had to give him an opportunity to come clean – he had to know by what she was asking that they had found something.

"No- just the usual cases. And like I told you – Mark got along with everyone. Is there a reason you're asking this? You don't suspect one of- one of _my_ guys , do you?" He had leaned back a bit, his body language reading clearly confident, and it was at that moment Bobby chose to launch his attack. He stepped from the wall, silent and stealthy, rather like a large jungle cat stepping from it's cover. He almost startled her, he moved so soundlessly and swiftly. A fraction of a second later, and he was looming over the Captain crossing his arms and glaring down at him from his rather impressive full height.

"You know what I just hate?" He spoke in a conversational tone, his eyes flicking from Sims to her and back again. " I hate it when people play dumb, Captain. You're a cop- and you should know- that we wouldn't bring you in here without something. Now you tell me-" He paused grabbing a chair for the end of the table and pulling it over to Sims side, turning it backwards and straddling it swiftly. Now leaning forward, with his arms folded on the top of the chair, he continued on. "- you tell me, why we have you here."

"I don't- I don't really know." Sims stammered nervously, glancing at her in appeal. He leaned away from Bobby as he spoke, edging himself slightly right.

"You don't know?!" Bobby's voice rose an octave in volume and he turned towards her incredulously. "Eames- he- he doesn't _know_. Well then, I guess I'll have to show you why." His hand slapped down on the folder in front of them all, flipping it open and pulling the pink sheet out. He danced it in front of Sims, making it twist and prance merrily before the captain's eyes. "Recognize this?" He spoke in a jovial tone, still twisting his wrists to make the paper cavort in front of the other man's face. She shot him a quelling look – one glance that said 'enough Bobby' – and although he wasn't looking at her directly, he must have felt the weight of her gaze, because his hands dropped immediately, allowing the paper to float slightly before settling with a whisper in front of Sims' hands.

Sims' hands were shaking when he picked up the paper, and he looked paler for a moment, before glancing up at her. "What does this have to do with anything?" His eyes looked panicked and he seemed to seek reassurance from her.

"Well Captain-" she finally broke free from the soft smiles and understanding eyes for a moment, looking across the table at him shrewdly. "When I asked if anything 'unusual' happened, I would have counted you reporting your detectives to the IAB as 'unusual'." She leaned forward, waiting for his explanation. The Captain sighed heavily, looking down at the paper before him.

"Have you ever done something, Detective Eames- something that seemed right at the time but minutes later seemed monumentally stupid?" His voice was tired, and he seemed to shrink down in his seat, the very image of a tired, defeated man. She felt a wave of real sympathy for him – as she had intimate experience with making a stupid decision and wanting to take it back, She felt Bobby's eyes travel over to her, watching her reaction intently – simply because he knew where her thoughts lay at the moment.

"Actually – you'd be surprised." She responded dryly, a half smile gracing her face.

Sims looked up, and saw the understanding written in her eyes and smiled slightly, a sardonic twist of the mouth. "Being a Captain- it isn't as nice as you'd expect. My whole career I did the wrong thing- cut corners to make arrests- never followed the book- in fact I'm pretty sure the book and I hated each other. But someone – some idiot- thought I would make good Captain material. Mostly because my solve and collar rate was so damn high, I guess. And suddenly- suddenly I had these men and woman looking to _me_ for leadership. A moral compass of what's right and wrong. It was like a huge cosmic joke. To make matters worse, I worked with the same teams, essentially – for ten years. AT that point Detective- it's not people who work for you- they're family."

She nodded knowingly, thinking of how often Jimmy called- and she still wasn't used to him pleading to be called that- now that he had left MCS. Five years with someone necessitated closeness. Plus Deakins just liked to know that she and Goren were alright – and the new guy hadn't given them grief. Bobby was watching Sims intently, nodding every few seconds, but staying uncharacteristically silent.

"I-" he sighed heavily, fingering the report with one hand and running the other over his face roughly. "They were different for the last few years – you know? Closer- their solve rate rocketed- so damn in tune it was almost scary. And there was always that voice at the back of my mind- telling me it was just _different_ somehow. But I would dismiss it – of course they weren't- they wouldn't – at least not without saying anything to me first. I knew that. And then- then one day I was out on a Sunday – just coffee, nothing major- but i liked to walk, and it was nice out. And I saw them – coming from some medical building- they were- holding hands , and whispering, and you could just _see_ by looking at them that there was more. And then I saw Mark's wedding ring." He spoke quietly, and she frowned slightly, glancing down at the report and reading upside down.

"You didn't put that in the report." bobby pointed out softly, before she could open her mouth to speak. "Why not?"

Sims reached up and scratched his head lightly. "I don't- don't really know. I was so angry- I felt betrayed. That it had gone that far- and had been going on for God knows how long- and they never told me? I would have fought for them- I would have understood." he whispered fiercely, blinking rapidly, the hurt still evident in his eyes. " I would have _fought_." He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck in agitation as he spoke. Closing his eyes for a moment, he carried on. "I was angry- I went to the office then and there and filed my report. I guess- even at the time I knew I didn't want them caught- so I left a lot out. But it was a moment of hurt and anger, I suppose. I sent it- and regretted it the next day. I wanted to take it back- but damn Smyth jumped on it- I swear that guy is slimier than most IA guys. He investigated, but I stonewalled it and no evidence was found."

"Smyth- what was your impression of him?" She asked thoughtfully, and Sims looked up and met her eyes.

"He was the scariest son of a bitch I had ever met within the confines of the force. You could tell- he was just zealous- one of those guys who thought partners getting drinks was a violation- that type thing. He was almost manic during his investigation- it was terrifying." His eyes were intense as he spoke and his voice was tight. Glancing over at Bobby, Sims radiated tension. "Are you looking at an inside guy?" His voice was clipped as he spoke.

"You know we can't discuss it, Captain." Alex's tone was regretful, and she picked up the paper and slid it back into the file. "Did you ever let Mark and MJ know – that it was you? That you knew?"

Sims looked back down at his hands, which were once again pressed into the metal table, as though he could push any feelings down with them, force himself to get under control. "No- I wanted to pretend I never saw anything. That they trusted me."

She stood slowly, picking the folder up and pausing for a moment. Bobby rose with her automatically, as usual, and walked around the table to stand behind her, his presence a comfort in the small room. "You should talk to her, Captain. She had her reasons- and she needs you now more than ever. You're all she has." With that, she turned on her heel, and walked through the door Bobby was holding open. She felt bad for the man behind her- he had done something that he couldn't take back- and she knew too well how that felt. Walking over to their desks she stopped only to drop the file on top of the other papers and carried on towards the washrooms. She heard Bobby call her name, but she just waved a hand over her shoulder, and escaped into the cool confines of the women's washroom.

Leaning over the sink and pressing a damp paper towel to her eyes tightly, she cursed inwardly. She was better than this- this stupid display of weakness on her part. She felt slightly sick, as though she were about to break in a nervous sweat, or throw up. Thankfully the room was blessedly empty. Having only three female detectives on the squad didn't exactly make for a busy female washroom. She rose up slowly, looking at her reflection in the mirror critically. She touched her hair slightly, knowing she needed a trim soon, but she was really liking it long lately and was reluctant to get it done. Her face was pale and drawn, lack of sleep creating dark shadows under her eyes, and a slight blueish tinge to her skin tone. It never ceased to piss her off that when they caught an extremely difficult case like this, that she always looked like crap and at most Bobby looked slightly disheveled. He would take off his tie during difficult cases- he always said it helped him breathe better and think clearer. She frowned slightly at her reflection. He hadn't been wearing it at all lately, not since before Jo Gage had taken a hand through her hair, she brought her hands down to rest on the cool porcelain of the sink and she leaned her weight on them, breathing in and out.

It wasn't the interview that had bothered her- but the tormenting thoughts of the letter she had written that rose again. Bobby had refused to discuss it last year when it had been brought up in the worst of circumstances. The look on is face when she read it out loud in court- her intentions to leave them, and him – had been etched into her mind for the last year. He would never let her explain- explain how hard it had been in the beginning, when he ran ahead of her and never stopped to see if she was following. When he never got her jokes, and she thought her eyes would fall out of head from rolling them so much at him, her only way of expression her frustration. He just mumbled about how lucky he was that she stayed when she mentioned it, and ignored anything else she tried to say.

How lucky _he_ was that _she_ stayed. Even when it was her fault, after all she had hurt him by not telling him, he still somehow managed to twist it around to suit his slightly narcissistic personality. It was about him when he spoke of it , and it irritated the hell out of her. He never even let her tell him what changed her mind. She concentrated on simply breathing for a moment, trying to clear thoughts of the letter out, and pull herself together before he came searching for her. And he would, he would have no problem walking into a female washroom, if only to ensure that she was alright. And she would be – when he came to check. She always was by then. Her moments of weakness were always just that- moments. Brief flashes of emotions that boil up and have to be stomped down. It felt like trying to climb a glacier in heels, she scrambled, with no grip and kept sliding down the steep incline.

She sighed softly, pressing her fingers into her eyes until she could see an awful acid green color spread over her lids. Sometimes- sometimes she was so tired of fighting it. Why not just slide? Just let go, and fall and see what happens? She shook with repressed laughter, knowing that she – Alexandra Eames, control freak extrodinaire- could never just slide. Hell, she couldn't let anyone control any aspect of her life- not her family, not her husband when he had been alive- not even her partner. She couldn't see what was beyond that edge, what was at the end of the long dark drop- and it terrified her. Sure , it could be soft down there, and all rainbows and roses and puppies- she snorted softly- but it could also be nothing but jagged rocks, waiting to tear her- tear _them_ – apart. She leaned her forehead against the mirror, enjoying the feeling of cool beneath her heated skin and shut her eyes tightly.

"Eames?" She jumped, and cursed- she hadn't heard him come in, not until it was too late. She took one more breath before turning towards him, her calm facade sliding into place.

"Yes Bobby?" She smiled as she spoke, grabbing a paper towel and wiping her hands on it for effect.

"I was- I was worried." He tilted his head slightly and she groaned inwardly, recognizing the patented move that indicated his thoughts has stopped chasing each other and streamlined into one smooth continuous line, leading to a conclusion that no one else saw. "Are you alright?"

She bit her lip slightly, not wanting to lie- but not wanting to confess either. "It's just been a rough few weeks Bobby. Don't you think?"

His hand raised to his collar, unconsciously tugging on it, even though he hadn't had a tie on it in days. He sighed, and leaned against the other side of the mirror, squeezing his frame between the two sinks so he could face her. "Yeah- I do think." He laughed shortly, a bitter, rough sort of sound and watched her closely. "We can talk – you know that right? I would listen if- if you needed me to."

His face was close to hers, as he leaned across the sink between them and she closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling softly, the air carrying a sense of calm and a whiff of the soap he used. Part of her ached to just sit there with him, and strip herself bare in front of him. Let him see her thoughts, the things she fought so hard to keep away, and just place herself in his care- trusting him to find a workable solution. But it was too much to ask of him- he wouldn't be able to do what she needed. Her eyes opened and she looked across at him, so close that she could see the lines on his face, and how it looked like he hadn't shaved in three days instead of the usual one. She saw his eyes, soft and concerned and with that essential Bobby look to them – that even in his most convincing act of sympathy for suspects, never really penetrated his eyes. That look let her know that he really was concerned, and this was about them and not anything else. "Of course I know that Bobby." She responded softly, watching the shadow of pain cross his face at the length of time she had taken. "I just needed- I just needed-"

"To breathe?" He asks her carefully, once again just hitting on the heart of the matter without trying.

"Yeah." She smiled at his understanding, and straightened her frame off of the wall. He followed her example and she ran a hand through her hair, blowing out the breath in a steady stream. "So-" her tone turned brisk and his face fell into his usual demeanor, and in two seconds they were back to their usual ground, and she found a toehold in the slick surface of her life. "- did you find anything on Smyth?"

He opened his ever present binder, flipping through to find the notes he had scribbled recently. "Yeah- he's 42 yrs of age , risen quickly through IA – clean record-"

"Well you need one to be a rat." She spoke dryly and he glanced up for a moment, smiling in response to her quip.

"Very- very driven, I think. He was one of the youngest assigned to IA's investigation squad. He'll be- an interesting interview to say the least." He bent towards her as he spoke, and they leaned over his notes together.

"Yeah, interesting like a bad date." She spoke tiredly, looking up at him. Glancing at her watch, she bit her lip. "Well it's only 3 now- we could catch him at work if we leave now. What do you say? Want to take a drive?"

He nodded slightly, opening the door and walking behind her towards their coats, pulling hers off the rack first and handing it back before pulling on his own. Once they found themselves in the empty elevator, plummeting down to the parking garage, he leaned forward slightly, his head appearing over her shoulder. She glanced at him in question, and he shook his head silently, his face conflicted for a moment. "I'm.. glad you're okay, Eames." It was the best he could come up with, and she smiled slightly at him, before turning and walking out of the open doors.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I have no words for how horrible this chapter was. Two non saves and losses of information - a million typos and I want to rip my hair out. So I fixed, and rewrote and there's probably a ton of typos - which I am such a freak about, I loathe them - but I'm tired and just posting it now. Sigh. So some of you know who the killer is- the conclusion to the casefile portion of it will be done soon. But it won't be the end, naturally it's just a means to an end. The shippy stuff - the real good stuff- won't happen til after anyway, so non shippers are warned, once the arrest is made, stop reading. Also, I hate the title of this fic. I almost always use song titles for my fics, but I didn't want to this time, and now it's driving me insane. Once again, thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter- I appreciate it muchly.

Disclaimer: Insert thought about how we all wished we owned it here.

* * *

The IA building was brightly lit and badly laid out. Not that the MCS was laid out better, but she enjoyed the open feel of it, she liked the windows and the open floor concept. IA was the direct opposite, narrow dark corridors leading to tiny shut off offices, and as a result people scurried up and down the halls as they walked towards Det. Smyth's office. "Like rats in a cage." She muttered darkly to herself. Bobby's chuckle from behind her didn't really shock her though.

When they arrived at his office, she was the one to knock sharply, once and then again when there had been no response for a few moments. His superior officer had told them he was in, so she sighed slightly- she wasn't really in the mood for this, and knocked again, more loudly – adding a 'NYPD' in a forceful tone. Finally the door was opened by an irritated looking man, whose shirt was unbuttoned halfway, and his dark hair was disheveled and he wore a thunderous expression.

"What?!" He snapped, clearly annoyed. Alex simply rose a brow, taking in the rest of his appearance. His pants were slightly off center and he had no socks or shoes on.

"I'm Detective Eames and this is Detective Goren-" she spoke in an abrupt tone, not really in the mood to coddle what could be their top suspect. "We're from MCS – we're investigating a series of murders, and we need to speak with you."

Smyth frowned, his face coloring slightly in anger, before he finally shrugged. "Fine. But give me a minute." And without another word he slammed the door shut in their faces. Bobby looked down at her, waiting.

"What?"

"Aren't you gonna-" he waved a hand at the door expressively "-say something about that?"

"What I'm so predictable now that you _wait_ for my jokes?" Her voice was irritated and she glared up at him. "Fine what would I have said, Mr. Knows me so well he can predict my one liners?"

"I don't know- I don't really have a sense of humor." He glanced down at her as he spoke and she rolled her eyes.

"Fine. It would have been along the lines of me counting down to the woman's exit, or speculating since no woman has appeared that he was doing a tango for one- I had something much better planned, but you went and ruined the mood." She elbowed him lightly as she spoke and he chuckled. Just then the door flew open again and a woman dressed impeccably exited and strode down the hall. Bobby leaned over her shoulder a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Always go with your first instinct. She looks like another Detective-"

"Kinda hypocritical don't ya think? Smyth judging fraternization when he seems to not mind indulging in it himself?" She smiled tightly as the door opened again, this time revealing Det Smyth , fully dressed – _thank God_.

"Are you coming?!." He spoke roughly, and she fought the urge to giggle like a 12 year old girl. _I think you've taken care of that for us Smyth. _He strode into the office, and sat himself at his desk, waving a hand to indicate the chairs empty in front of them. It wasn't a large office, but there was a sofa off to one side that she avoided staring at, and the larger desk, which she seated herself in front of. Bobby – _speaking of predictable_- was wandering the room, bending over bookshelves and studying the diplomas on the wall.

"Thank you for seeing us." Her voice was a tiny, tight coiled thing – and he eyed her warily like she was a snake about to strike. "I'm sure you've heard of the two recent murders of two officers? Interestingly enough, we uncovered that you investigated both sets of partners just weeks prior to their murders."

"Yeah I heard. People whispering about a serial cop killer" His tone was brusque and uncaring and she fought the urge to reach across the desk and smack the man. "So what-" He jerked open the drawer in his desk, shifting through files quickly. "-You want my impressions of the two sets? Why I didn't charge them? What were the names again?" He spoke in a slightly bored tone and she gritted her teeth tighter.

"Collier and Casas, and Yellis and Jones." He nodded, thumbing through files and finally pulling out two slim folders.

"Alright-" his tone was rushed, as if he just wanted to get this over with, but nothing in his manner indicated any type of guilt- or anything else other than the fact that he was clearly an asshole. "-Collier and Casas – no evidence. I interviewed several people they had worked with on cases, and no signs of unprofessionalism. They were never caught outside of work- just a hunch their Captain had- so as per procedure I was only able to review their work related procedures- not their personal ones. If you ask me though, they were involved. But there was no evidence, no co workers would back it up- so it got shelved." His tone was impersonal and clipped, like he was reciting something he knew by heart.

"And Yellis and Jones?" She questioned shortly, making notes in her book as he spoke.

"They were reported seven times- once again, all work related reports. None of their co workers saw them intimately engaged, or otherwise – so I was reviewing their work history alone. And again, I got the best of reports on them. Completely professional conduct- even when I interviewed them. After the third report, the partners we investigate get a heads up and get interviewed." He shut the folder in front of him and glared at her across the desk.

"So if a set of partners are reported, they wouldn't know the first two times?" Bobby's voice rumbled from across the room, and Smyth lanced over in surprise. Apparently he had forgotten Bobby's presence.

"No." Smyth answered shortly. "I investigate over 500 complaints a year, detectives. If the partners knew, they could hide it – that's why we don't let them know. I'm sure that some people would be appalled to know they'd been reported." He had a strange look on as he spoke, a certain sly tone to his voice and she frowned thoughtfully. It almost sounded as if he were suggesting-

"Could we have a list of the complaints you've looked into over the last few months?" Bobby spoke politely, and Smyth laughed outright, a strange barking sound.

"Hell no, you can't. You get a warrant and I'll give it to you- but no judge is gonna open sealed fraternization complaints based on a connection between two dead cops. Now if that's all Detectives- I have important work to get back to-"

She stood, promptly, and nodded at him. Smiling slightly she paused at the door. "We'll see you soon Det. Smyth." Pulling open the door she stepped through, Smyth's laughter following her down the hall.

"Don't forget your warrant!"

* * *

"So we have no grounds for a warrant- and basically nothing to do until another set of bodies show up?" She sighed in frustration, glaring at the phone Bobby had just hung up as if she could physically harm Carver through it.

"I'm sorry Eames-"

"It's not your fault Bobby. We need those damn files though- I mean- God, as much of a snake as Smyth was-"

"You don't think he's the killer?" Bobby finished for her. She nodded slightly, leaning forward and resting her forehead against the pile of files scattered across the table in front of her. Her hair hung around her face like a curtain, and all she wanted to do was clear this case off their desk. She wanted this guy caught- and caught yesterday. "I don't either- he's not what I'd call a shining addition to the force, but I don't think he killed these guys- for one thing, Smyth seemed the type to want a fight from his victims-"

"And our guy had to subdue them." She finished tiredly, still in her prone position. Tilting her head slightly she looked at Bobby who was seated next to her. "But why? Why subdue them?"

"Perhaps it's a woman. Or it could be someone without the physical strength to complete the task- an injury, or they could be of an older age, or-"

"Oh my God Bobby- You're a genius!" She shot up, her body tight with excitement as she stared at him. "We know it's someone who has access to files right? How many people could have access right now – because the reports were only made a few weeks ago- plus be a female or injured male? If we pull out all of the files of officers who work with or have access to IA files-"

"And cross reference old injury with it-" Bobby was staring at her as he spoke now, his eyes light and his fingers drumming on the surface of the table. "But the search is too specific- the computer would never be able to-"

"No but _we_ could. All we need is a list of people with access to those files. Then we go through them-"

"We get a suspect." He finished thoughtfully. Glancing at the clock behind her, he frowned. "It's gonna take a while- and we'll need two laptops- I'll see if I can go steal one from CITU-" he was out the door before he even finished the sentence and she rolled her eyes, picking up her cell phone.

"I'll get food."

* * *

Four hours later, her eyes felt like they were burning out of her head, and she was beginning to hate the glow of her computer screen. Bobby sat across from her with the borrowed laptop, and his head was resting in his hand heavily- in fact, she wasn't entirely sure if he was awake. She hadn't heard any clicks of his keys for a while now. Ignoring him, she let him take the small nap, knowing she would probably need one later as well. The search had kicked back no less than 412 individuals within the Force with access to those files. She sighed, and leaned back, stretching her arms above her head and moaning slightly.

Sighing she stuck her tongue out at the computer screen for a moment, screwing her face up and glaring at it. A chuckle surprised her and she leaned to the left to see Bobby smiling as he watched her. "I don't think that's the proper search technique." He spoke softly, as if the silence of the room had affected his speaking voice.

"You were supposed to be asleep." she whispered back fiercely, annoyed at being caught.

"I never sleep- you know that." She rolled her eyes at this statement and frowned thoughtfully.

"This is taking forever." She clicked to the next file as she spoke, her eyes scanning the pertinent injury section. She was barely reading the names at this point, just flagging files of women and men with injuries and moving on. She had no idea how many they had flagged together, but she figured another hour and they'd have their flagged stack to go through more thoroughly.

"Look at the bright side- at least we aren't pulling these files by hand." He chuckled slightly as he spoke, and she stared at him for a beat before shaking her head and carrying on. The monotony of the click, scan, flag, discard was interrupted a moment later as her phone buzzed and she glanced down startled. It was now close to nine pm, and she knew it wouldn't be her family, and she felt his eyes watching her as she unclipped her phone and looked at it as if it was a foreign instrument for a moment.

"You flip it to answer." He offered in a helpful whisper, earning a glare from her, before she walked out of the room to answer, closing the door firmly on his curious face as she did so. _Take that_.

"MJ, hi- I'm so sorry I haven't called you lately-" her tone was apologetic as she started and she heard a slight laugh on the other end.

"No! When you called every day I knew you had time. The fact that I haven't heard from you was the most hope I've had all week. You've found something haven't you?" MJ's voice was strained and Alex felt a small twinge of sympathy for the woman.

"Another victim." She answered softly, hearing the quick indrawn breath on the other end.

"Oh shit." She paused for a moment the air thick with tension. "Are you- were there any connections? I mean obviously the killer- but were there-"

"You know I can't answer that MJ." Alex spoke softly, regret lacing her voice. "It would be-"

"I know." MJ heaved a sigh on the other end. "I just- I feel crazy you know? I have nothing to do – I'm on suspension pending investigation, and all I have to do everyday Alex, is think about him. And it-" Her voice chocked slightly, and Alex frowned listening to her.

"Are you still at home MJ?"

"I have nowhere else to go." MJ's voice sounded dull as she responded. "CSU released Mark's- but I- I can't go over there. Even knowing it's just through that wall-"

"Have you been sleeping at all?" Alex spoke softly, and felt the sudden sensation of someone watching her. The gaze was familiar though, and she knew without turning around that Bobby had snuck out of the room to overhear.

"A bit- I try, for the baby, you know..." Alex felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned toward Bobby, who was indicating he needed to talk to her.

"Hang on one second MJ." Covering the phone, she glanced at him expectantly.

"You should- maybe take off and see her. I'll stay and do the files, then when you get back you can take over and I'll take a break." His voice was soft and he leaned towards her as she spoke. The bullpen was dimly lit, and he seemed to be melting into the shadows in front of her, making his face seem much closer. Blinking slightly she opened her mouth to argue. "No Eames, it's not unprofessional, she's a witness not a suspect- besides she- she probably needs someone, and you were the one threatening to kill your laptop-"

"I stick my tongue out at you all the time Goren, and let me tell you- each time does not constitute a death threat." She spoke dryly and a smile twitched the corners of his mouth.

"Says you." He shot back swiftly and she grinned. "Seriously Eames- go – take off for a bit, maybe it'll give you fresh eyes when you get back." She nodded slightly, putting the phone back to her ear. "Fine, but I'll bring you some good coffee back ."

"I'd have to kill you if you didn't." He deadpanned, before waving slightly and turning back towards the room- _to bury himself in files and forget I even exist._

"Sorry about that MJ. Would you like to meet for coffee? We can talk if you need to-"

"Oh I couldn't Alex. You're working and-"

"Don't worry- Bobby's taking this shift, so I'm free. Where do you want to meet?"

* * *

Alex walked into the small coffee shop in wonder. She had thought between she and Bobby that they'd been to every cafe in Manhattan, but apparently she was wrong. Walking up to the counter and ordering her large coffee she picked it up and turned towards the booth she had spotted MJ in when she entered the shop.

MJ smiled in greeting as she slid into the seat across from her, before leaning forward and unashamedly sniffing her coffee with an expression of longing on her face. Pulling back, she grinned slightly. "Sorry- but I haven't had coffee in forever and it's killing me. First it was to be better able to conceive, and now well-" She gestured down with a small smile and her hands played with the cup in front of her. She looked down at it with a grimace. She wrinkled her nose and laughed slightly. "So now I drink flavored herbal tea- and believe me when I use the word flavored in the loosest sense." She sighed softly, and Alex watched her fidget for a moment unsure of what to talk about. "I'm sorry for pulling you away-"

"Don't worry about it MJ. Bobby and I were just doing a good old fashioned manual search. The make your eyes cross type." She laughed slightly, and took a sip of her coffee. "Oh my god this is fantastic!"

"I know!" MJ smiled softly. "Mark and I found this place and never went anywhere else for coffee. Even if we had to drive an additional twenty minutes- he didn't care." She smiled brightly, but it faltered and slid off her face after a moment. She stared down at the table between them, and one of her hands picked at the edge. "Sorry- I just- I wanted to be distracted you know? I want to stop thinking about it-" She finished on a whisper. Alex nodded in understanding.

"Well, tell me how to distract you." She smiled wryly as she spoke. "A cup of coffee this good is worth a few questions."

MJ's mouth curved upwards and her eyes lost the cold look they had. "Alright, well- tell me about yourself Alex."

"Well- there's not a ton to tell. I'm the second youngest in a family of five. We're Irish- we go big or go home, I guess. I was a horrible tomboy as a child- always chasing after my brothers from the moment I could walk. So my Mom was relieved when a few years later she had Kate- and got the girl she was looking for with me. " She smiled wryly, and MJ nodded, listening intently. "No one was surprised when I became a cop- my Dad was one, two of my brothers are- and the others Army."

"What about your sister?" MJ asked with curiosity.

"Kate's a mom. She always was – if you know what I mean- but she got married young. They tried for a long time before they got Nate." She took another sip of coffee, her mind wandering back to when she had been pregnant.

"Got Nate? They adopted?"

"No- surrogate. Me actually. Drove Bobby nuts when I was off because of the baby. I heard some not so nice stories when I got back." She chuckled and MJ looked at her carefully.

"Wow- that's a huge thing you did for her. Couldn't have been easy." Alex tensed for a moment, not wanting to think about hose first days, and MJ must have read it in her body language, because she changed the subject quickly. "So how long have you and Bobby been partnered?"

"Going on six years now. He went through something like three partners in a year before he got me. He's- he's not easy to work with – not at first anyway. But he's brilliant." She stated simply, her tone warm as she took another sip. MJ smiled and nodded.

"You can tell. But you guys seem to work really well together." She got a far away look in her eyes as she spoke.

"Yeah well- he's a pain in the ass at times. At first I really wanted to do nothing more than smack him. He didn't get my jokes, he would go off on tangents about things we hadn't even talked about- just expecting me to follow the way he thought."

"And you couldn't?" MJ had pushed aside her tea and was leaning against the table now, her face bright and interested.

"Hell no. We may be great partners now- but one thing that will probably always hold true for Goren and I is that in no way do we think alike." She shrugged slightly as she spoke. "But it's not a bad thing- it gives him perspective – and sometimes I learn a thing or two."

"How long did it take?" MJ asked with a knowing look in her eyes.

"A while." She answered softly – her mind drawn to that damn letter for the second time that day. "I almost gave up. But I'm glad I didn't." She shook off the shroud of sadness that had cloaked her for a moment, and began telling the stories of how badly they had misunderstood each other at first. Several moments later MJ was laughing along with her, wiping her eyes occasionally. If there was one thing she was good at- it was telling stories. Her father called it spinning yarns- that her own personal humor often colored the stories and more often then not, she had people crying in laughter over her renditions. It wasn't something she did a lot though- no time on the job, and she smiled watching MJ. "and he actually said 'sharks don't have scales.' I just about died-"

"He thought you were serious? Oh lord!" MJ laughed, her face lighting up as Alex told the story. "Wow, you guys really didn't have a lot in common then, did you?"

"Yeah, well – adjustment I guess. Now he waits for my one liners- I guess I'm getting predictable in my old age." She sighed as she spoke, and MJ glared at her.

"Oh please, Alex- you're what, in your late thirties?"

"Oh I like you already." Alex teased gently. "I turned forty last year. It's a bit sad I think- I mean I have my family and they're great, but-"

"You hit the big birthdays and start wondering?" MJ nodded understandingly as she spoke. "Wondering if making your career your life was the right choice? If you're ever going to have everything- and wondering if it's even worth it anymore?"

"I didn't really have a choice making my career my life. I mean – my husband died-"

"Oh God, Alex, I'm so sorry!" MJ drew back a stricken look on her face, but Alex waved her off.

"It's fine. It's been a while. To be honest- we'd only been married a few years, and looking back I don't even know what would have happened. We were young I guess. At any rate by the time I was even remotely over it, I was at MCS and pulling 14 hour days- and then I had a few really bad dating experiences. The 'oh did I forget to mention my wife' kind of bad." She sighed slightly as she spoke. "At this point I'm not really looking for forever anymore. I like my house- and my life. I like no one telling me what to do, or being bothered by the fact that I spend more than half my day with another man."

"And that's important?" MJ spoke quickly, her eyes shrewd. "Having someone accept Bobby – no questions asked?"

"Well- yeah." Alex answered dryly and MJ smiled.

"It was the same for me – with Mark I mean, before we.. you know. I wouldn't date guys that had an issue with how close we were. Partnership is a hard thing to explain to someone who doesn't work that closely with a co worker. Turns out that I did find someone who was okay with it- it just happened to be _him_." She laughed slightly, her face softening at the thought of Mark.

"MJ- do you-" Alex bit her lip unsure how to ask the question without offending MJ or possibly revealing too much. "Do you ever regret it? I mean if someone told you-"

"That if we had stayed partners he'd live?" MJ finished her question uncannily. "I've thought about it. A lot- but no- I don't regret it. And given the two choices, I think I'd choose the same. Because if I chose twenty years with Mark as just my partner- God Alex, I'd never have known how it feels to be held by him, or to touch him. I'd never have known what it was like to love someone so much that it was like they were part of me. I'd never have this baby- and I can't regret that." Her eyes filled up, and Alex instantly felt horrible for even bringing it up.

"I'm sorry-"

"No! Don't be Alex. If you're asking for a reason- which I'm not saying you are, but _if_ – just look at it this way. What if I had stayed partners with him, and he met someone? I don't think I ever would have- but Mark was a great guy. He could have met someone and gotten married, had kids. The way I felt- I wouldn't have been able to- I wouldn't have been strong enough to stay and watch. So I would have lost him anyway." She spoke simply, and her eyes met Alex's, pinning her down with her intent gaze. She flushed and looked away from her eyes, playing with her empty cup as she did so.

"You and Bobby, Alex- how long?" Alex swallowed nervously, she hadn't spoken about it to anyone- not her family, not her friends, not even her therapist.

"I don't know." She finally answered after a long silence. "I guess a better question would be when didn't I? The more I learned about him- the more time I spent with him- he's – he's-" She paused, uncertain how to describe it. "It doesn't matter though- even if he felt the same, which I doubt- our partnership is too important to us."

"How do you know what he'd want Alex?" She spoke softly, leaning forward and waiting.

"He's- Bobby is just- you don't know him MJ. He needs me as his partner more than he needs me in any other way. I keep him even- balanced. Without that – he wouldn't be able to function well. When I was gone-" She looked down suddenly, staring at the cheap plastic cover on her empty cup and frowning. "He needs me to protect him, even from himself sometimes." MJ nodded understandingly.

"You're worried- that if you gave in, and it didn't work-"

"It could ruin everything. And I need Bobby just as much- maybe _more_- than he needs me. I can't just give in- I have to fight- for both of us." Her phone buzzed at her side, and she glanced over at MJ in apology. Checking the display- She saw her partners name and grimaced. "Eames."

"I think I found something- and you won't believe who it is- fits the profile, and god damn, how did I not see this sooner?" His voice was excited, and agitated all at once. She frowned on her end.

"Bobby- who is it?"

"I'll talk to you when you get here, I'm calling Carver in the meantime, we need a warrant for the IA files, and his house- I'll see you soon." He hung up quickly and she glared at her phone.

"Idiot." She muttered , and looked up at MJ, apology in her eyes.

"You have to go- go. I'll be alright. Thanks for seeing me, Alex." Alex stood, and glanced down with a smile.

"It wasn't a problem, MJ. Call me – okay?" Turning to go, she walked a step and turned back. "Oh and thanks- for listening about the- and if you-"

"I won't breath a word, Alex. I swear. Now go!" She laughed and waved her off, and Alex walked up to the counter to get Bobby's coffee – and one more for herself, it was damn good coffee- before taking the tray and exiting the cafe with a wave.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: So now y'all know if you were right or not. Once again- I am loving the reviews like a cheap whore- so keep em up!

Disclaimer: Do I look like Dixk Wolfe or whoever owns NBC? Well, you can't see me- but trust me, I don't.

* * *

She had almost put the sirens on on the ride back to the office- nearly ran two red lights, all thanks to the simple level of agitation in her partner's voice. Her partner, who as she strode out of the elevator at an odd hybrid between a skip and a jog, was seemingly unaware of her approach. His head was bent towards the desk- buried in a file with one hand on the back of his neck and the other tapping a pencil in a quick staccatto against the desk. It was the only outward sign of any nervous energy, and he didn't even look up until she was practically on top of him, placing his cup of coffee on his desk. He blinked and looked at his watch in confusion.

"Eames- what the hell- did you _fly_? I only called you ten, fifteen minutes ago." His voice was confused, and calm She glared at him with an incredulous expression on her face, and leaned a hip against the edge of his desk.

"I don't know Bobby- usually when my partner calls me agitated and in a tizzy- I tend to rush. Maybe that's just me, but-"

"A tizzy? I wasn't in a tizzy." He objected in a scoffing tone and she rolled her eyes as he leaned back, staring up at her. When he finally took his eyes off her, he noticed the coffee cup on his desk. His eyes lit up and he picked it up. "Coffee- thanks Eames." He paused, taking a sip and looked at her in wonder. "This- this is great coffee."

"MJ found the place- no worries, it's permanently etched in my mind. Uh- Bobby?" She slid along the edge of his desk, pushing her small frame a few inches closer to where he sat and interrupting his line of vision. He watched her warily, taking in her crossed arms and tense posture.

"Uh- yeah, Eames?" his tone was distracted as he continued to stare at the desk behind her.

"I know who did it? Can't believe I missed it? Any of this ringing any bells?" She watched as he continued to stare off into space, and sighing she reached out pushing his shoulder gently. "Bobby! The case- update please?"

"Oh. Oh!" He sat up straight, no longer leaning back in his chair and the movement caused him to bump into her crossed arms with his shoulder. He shot her and apologetic glance as he leaned forward to grope the surface of the desk behind her, finally pulling a file back with him. "This is it- NYPD member- get this- injured in 92, older male, complete access to files, and the best part- was a ME down in California for a few years before switching over to police work and eventually working Homicide."

"Shit. It would explain the peri and antimortem cutting. And the drugging, since he's injured. I suppose the shooting was what? Just a way to kill them quickly to start the cutting?" He nodded as she spoke, a slight smile tugging at his mouth as she connected the dots. "So- are you going to tell me who our lucky winner is?"

"Joe Clemmans." She had been reaching for the file as he spoke, but halted her momentum mid grab and almost fell from her precarious position on the edge of his desk. Grasping the edge, she shot him a none too pleased look, and arched a brow.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Eames- I don't kid about-"

"It was a rhetorical question Bobby- I know you weren't kidding. I just- I don't get it. Clemmans is a card carrying member of the 'I hate women' club. Why the hell would he kill the men?" She grabbed the file from his hand, flipping through it swiftly.

Bobby leaned back, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other propping up his chin while he ran his fingertips over his mouth. She stared at him for a moment in silence, waiting for the thoughts in his head to converge into one conclusion, and watching his fingers as they traced his mouth several times over. Shaking her head slightly, she looked down at the file in her hands, distracting herself with the case.

"It- it could be an attack on the women. I mean- comparatively- he's almost _gentle_ with the men. They're drugged- so they aren't aware of the actual shooting. Death is quick- almost painless. I think he might take pity on the men- kills them quick- and then the cutting- that's all directed at the women." He sat straight up in shock, his leg bumping her knees and knocking the file to the floor.

"Why didn't I see it? Eames- everything about those crime scenes- the cutting, the arrangement of the bodies- all of it was geared towards the women finding the body." His hands waved excitedly as he spoke, his eyes alight and she could almost watch the shift- the subtle almost imperceptible change from 'thinking' Bobby – to the manic energy of 'I've got them' Bobby.

"But they didn't- well, Yellis did, but MJ didn't" She hopped off the desk, bending down to gather the file that had been knocked askew.

"MJ was _supposed _to find Mark- that she didn't was just an accident. He mutilates the bodies and arranges them in a grotesque fashion- for maximum trauma on the woman. He considers it more painful for the women to be left alone- to see the man that he thinks they love murdered in a brutal fashion."

"That sick son of a bitch." She stared at the file in her hands for a heartbeat- feeling the shock wear off. "Bobby- God, how did we not see this guy sooner?"

"Eames- he's- he's a highly functioning individual- I wouldn't be surprised if, once we catch him and get him in interrogation that he turns into a completely different person. It was an _act_ Eames- the crotchety old man. And everyone fell for it- not just us." His tone was gentle- almost reassuring, which ironically only irritated her further. She didn't need placating.

"So did you call Ross?"

"And Carver- he's working on an arrest warrant for us. As soon as he has it, he'll call and we can go to Clemmans' apartment." They both looked behind them upon hearing the elevator doors slide open. Captain Ross strode into the room, a scowl on his face and dressed in dress pants and a dress shirt- but no tie and no coat.

"Seriously, you couldn't crack the case at some time _other_ than the middle of the night, Goren?" Alex bristled at his implication and leveled an angry stare at him.

"Eleven pm is hardly the middle of the night, _sir_." She spoke in a tight voice. "Did Carver call you?"

"Better than that- he dropped off two warrants for me- one to search Clemmans' apartment, and another for his arrest. How the hell he managed to get both just based on your deductions, Goren, I'll never know." He frowned at them, holding up the two warrants in his hand, which Alex immediately strode over and grabbed.

"Excellent." She spoke, ignoring Ross' jibe at her partner. "Come on Bobby- we can grab a team and head out. Call CSU Captain and have them meet us at Clemmans' address. It's 401B West 43rd." She pulled Bobby's coat off the rack as she spoke, and handed it to him. He was already on the phone with SWAT, giving the address and pertinent information.

"Hey." Ross' tone was laced with irritation. "I'm the Captain, I give the orders." She paused, waiting for him to continue with an impatient glare. "You go meet the team, I'll let CSU know and meet you there." She turned on her heel, dragging Bobby by a sleeve, rolling her eyes as she went. They entered the elevator, with her still clutching the soft fabric of his greatcoat and him with his phone still pressed to his ear.

"No- yeah- I don't think he's much of a physical threat- but keep in mind he did murder two cops."

* * *

In the end, it was all for naught- the SWAT team busting in Clemmans' apartment, them going in with guns drawn. He wasn't there- and they stood there, in flak jackets and breathing heavily, the air thick with frustration and anger.

"Alright- he's in the wind guys- we need to search this place- and fast. Someone call and see if we can get any property hits in his name." For all his fumbling and seeming ineptitude when it came to dealing with other officers- Bobby was amazingly good at leading in crisis situations. She sighed softly, ripping the velcro at her side, and sliding out of her vest. Pulling out her cell, she made the call to ensure they would get information on his whereabouts. After handing the assignment to a set of junior detectives from their squad- and waking them up to boot- she put her phone down, and pulled a pair of gloves out of her coat pocket, snapping them on. Wandering down the hall, she found Goren in the kitchen with some CSU techs- going through the cupboards. Seeing her enter, he glanced over and held up a pill container.

"Found some Rohypnol- more than half gone though, assuming it was full to start with." He handed the bottle down to one of the techs, who bagged it quickly. Bobby stepped around them, holding out an arm to indicate that they walk down the hall, and propelling her forward with a hand hovering at the small of her back.

They stepped into the bedroom next- edging around the CSU's that were working in there as well. The whole apartment was somewhat utilitarian, very little furniture and clearly geared towards function. No pictures adorned the walls, no artwork hung. There was absolutely no sense of hominess to the place. Bobby wandered over to the closet, flicking through the clothes there. She crouched by the laundry hamper on the floor, emptying it and going through the contents. A black shirt caught her eye, and she pulled it up to look more closely. "Bobby- does Clemmans have a cat?"

"No sign of any animal, Eames. Why?" He turned towards her and she held up the shirt. It was littered with long strands of tan fur.

"Because unless I'm mistaken- this looks like Mark Collier's cat's fur." Bobby stepped closer, looking at the hairs closely.

"Are you sure? I thought his cat was an orange tabby?" He picked one of the hairs off and examined it in his gloved fingertips.

"It was the blood . When we interviewed MJ, the cat was there. And he was cleaned- CSU must have processed him and released him. And he was tan." His eyes met hers, and they stood still for a moment.

"You know what this means- these are the clothes he wore when he killed Mark Collier." They both stared down at the laundry on the floor, and he waved a CSU over, instructing them to bag the laundry.

"Yeah- it also means like any man- he can't do his own laundry. Who leaves clothes laying around that long? Especially if they're evidence." She thought aloud, and he glanced over at her.

"Hey I do my own laundry."

She rose a brow at him and chuckled. "Having a service pick your stuff up every three days doesn't mean you 'do your own laundry' Bobby."

"He wants to be caught- part of him hates what he's doing and wants to be punished." She stared at him for a beat before following the jump his train of thought had taken.

"Yeah- or he wants to be recognized for it." She muttered darkly, turning from him and moving into the bathroom.

* * *

After spending another two hours combing the crime scene, they still hadn't gotten any leads on other property owned by Joe Clemmans. Ross had ordered them home, since it was close to two am and they had been at work since six. She had arrived at her house around three, and didn't even make it to the bed before passing out on the sofa. Four hours later she was awakened by a knocking on her door and a crick in her neck. She attempted to roll off her sofa- but wound up in a heap on her hardwood floor instead. Standing with a groan, she opened the door to find a bright eyed and bushy tailed partner standing there with two familiar cups of coffee. His clothing was immaculate, and he had even shaved- or at least trimmed the growth down to it's usual level, which really constituted shaving for Bobby. He also looked like he had gotten a solid eight hours sleep, while she looked like she had slept on the couch in yesterday's clothes and makeup. She glared at him, wincing when having to look up hurt her neck further.

She didn't speak- merely left the door open and stalked into her bedroom, slamming that door shut. She had no idea what he was doing, but she was at least getting a shower before looking at him again. She stepped under the spray in her en suite bathroom and moaned slightly.

Forty minutes later, she walked back out to the living room, and he handed her the still hot coffee. She looked down in surprise, and looked up at him, smiling.

"I called MJ- got the address. And then I reheated it about seven minutes ago- when I heard the hair dryer. I know you always do that last, and it only takes about five minutes." She simply took a sip of the coffee, shaking her head. The information he filed away was at times unnatural, but it got her hot coffee, so she wasn't about to knock it.

"Anything new?" She didn't bother to ask if he'd called in yet- she knew he had before he even got there, and probably again while she was in the shower.

"No hits on property- but CSU will have results for us when we get there. Eames-" he looked down at her with a concerned expression, and she took another fortifying sip of coffee. She would need it, she was sure. "You shouldn't sleep on your sofa like that- you could injure your back. I mean, I could have dropped you off at home if you were that tired."

"And let you drive?" She snorted slightly under her breath. "I don't think so. Besides Bobby- even if you had dropped me off, short of you coming in and tucking me in- I would have ended up in the same spot I'm sure." She watched with interest as he seemed flustered at her statement and glanced away. She handed him her cup to hold as she pulled her quilted jacket on. She had gone with jeans and a sweater today- they wouldn't be conducting interviews, so she dressed more appropriately for chasing perps- which they might be doing. Pulling her boots on and grabbing her keys, she took her cup back, and nodded at him. "Let's go."

* * *

A little over an hour later, they were back in the briefing room- the room she was really coming to hate looking at. It had no personality- nothing other than the case stamped all over it. Not that their desks were much better- but at least she had some photos to stare at, and it felt more comfortable. Added to the already massive stacks of files were the recent lab reports from CSU. Bobby was already seated, flipping through the reports, muttering, making notes and handing them to her when he was done. She sighed, taking them and casting her own eyes over them tiredly.

They had found traces of Collier's blood on the shirt, along with the fur which was a match to the cat. Also found in the laundry basket was a pair of black pants with traces of blood from both Mark Collier and Daniel Jones. She wrinkled her nose in disgust- it was worse than she had thought. Who wears the same pants to both murders?

She sighed, moving on to the report on the pill bottle. Clemman's fingerprints had been all over it. The bottle had the capacity to hold 32 pills, but only 11 were found inside. Frowning she paused, an odd thought was niggling at the back of her mind. Digging down to the ME reports on both Collier and Jones she read along until she found what she wanted. _Rohypnol found in the blood- 14mg levels._ Grabbing the photos from the crime scene, she saw what she wanted. A photo of the pills and container, and clearly stamped on the pills were 2mg. "Oh fuck." She whispered, doing mental calculations in her head. Jumping up she strode out of the room and into the Captain's office. Bobby- who had been startled by her movement, must have recognized the look on her face and followed at a sharp trot.

"Captain- we need to get our hands on IA's files- all of the complaints Smyth looked into in the last few months." She didn't knock- just burst into the office, with Bobby hot on her heels.

"Detective Eames, why would we need that? We have our perp- shouldn't we be concentrating on finding him?" Ross didn't look up from the paperwork he was currently filling out, and she felt a surge of irrational anger. If it had been Goren- hell maybe even Logan or any of the other men on the squad, they would have his full attention. Striding forward she slammed her hands on to of his desk and watched as he jumped back in surprise. "Eames! What in the hell are you doing?"

"We need those files- and we need them yesterday. I don't give a shit how hard they are to get- he was missing 21 pills! He only used 7 per victim- 14mg of Rohypnol in their systems- and there are 21 pills missing!" She was shouting now, her body tight with anger. She felt Bobby's hands at her waist, pulling her back, pushing her behind him. She slapped at him, but he ignored her, placing himself in front of the Captain who had risen up in anger.

"Seven pills per victim sir-" he spoke quickly latching onto her point immediately. "Two victims means 14 pills, but if seven more are missing- he's planning another murder." Suddenly the anger left Ross' face and he stared at Goren for a moment. Alex felt the urge to hiss at her superior officer and kick him soundly somewhere that would make him scream like a little girl. Sure when she asks for it, she's ignored, but Goren strolls in and steals her idea- a small voice at the back of her head spoke through her anger. _He's helping you- not stealing your thunder. You could have pissed Ross off- he was protecting you._ She felt the anger deflate out of her, like helium from an open balloon and she sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.

Ross picked up the phone quickly, dialing the ADA and speaking in rushed tones. Turning, Bobby pushed her out of the office and back towards the briefing room, closing the door and then the blinds. Turning to her he expelled a short frustrated breath and glared. "What the hell was that Eames? Since when do you not tell me discoveries?"

"Since two cops died and we don't have time to screw around, Goren!" She felt the anger rise in her again, only to be displaced when he placed his hands on her shoulders, gripping them gently.

"We tell each other, Eames. It's our rule- remember? So I don't do that to you anymore- and frankly being on the other end of it- I apologize for every time I did it to you in the beginning." He sighed, his fingers tightening on her shoulders, and tension in his arms, as though he wanted to pull her forward and fought it.

"I know." She spoke plaintively, her head falling forward and exhaustion setting in after the adrenaline. "I'm sorry- I just- we may be too late Bobby." She whispered and he crouched lower to look into her eyes.

"We'll do everything we can, Eames." She nodded in response, and he released her, taking a step back. She took a deep breath, looking at him with contrition. He nodded and sat heavily in her chair, before glancing up at her. "It was a good catch- I missed it."

"That's what I'm here for." She spoke dully, leaning against the table, her body leaning towards him, even as she pulled herself further away. He stared at her for a beat, before dropping his head in his hands silently, and they stayed that way , waiting for the files that would save another cop- or lead them to another murder scene.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Alright I know this is shorter- but in my defense I am dying of a cold currently- so i did what I could. Next chapter is gonna be full of angst- so it may take me a few days to get it out there, so to speak. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I'm too sick to do this. Just don't sue.

* * *

She welcomed the break in the awkward tension of the room when the files arrived via courier less than an hour later. Carver must have pulled strings to get a warrant signed that fast- but it was amazing how quickly the wheels of justice could turn once someone's life was at stake. The stack of files was at least a foot deep- and she was opening files and reading off names as Bobby wrote them down, along with the addresses on the board in front of him. After the first few files, Ross wandered into the room, and started typing the list up so that they would be able to e mail it to the various task forces to split the list up for the search.

"Havlier and Wills, address for him is 672 West 41st street, apartment 105." She paused, taking a sip of water and watching as Bobby nodded, scrawling along the board and placing a mark on a map. Ross continued typing as she spoke. Sighing she grabbed the next file.

"Logan and Barek- wait, Logan and _Barek?_" She stopped- looking at Ross as she spoke, and Bobby turned, silent. Ross didn't look up, merely typing Logan's address – apparently from memory.

"Didn't you wonder why they were split up Detectives?" His voice was flat as he typed.

"I just assumed she went back to the FBI or-" She glanced at Bobby for help, but he just shrugged , indicating he had no clue either- not that that was surprising. "Wait- Logan is in today right?" Her voice was tight as she spoke, but Bobby was the one who nodded first.

"I saw him- a few hours ago. Maybe? He was in the break room, waiting for instructions from us when the search time comes." Once he finished speaking, Bobby turned and scrawled Logan's name on the board with a slight tilt to his head.

Shaking her head- she really had no clue that Mike and Carolyn- sure they were always joking last year- but she never thought- she had never asked either though. Grabbing the next file, she began rattling off names at Bobby who studiously copied them down, his body angled awkwardly to accommodate his left handedness. They went on with the list for another few moments, rattling off files and copying in silence.

"Benson and Stabler – address for him is 600 Canal St." She picked up the next file, feeling a sudden sense of fatigue and a slight sense of anxiety as she selected it. Opening the file, she sat silent for a moment, staring at the contents. Her face flushed, and then went pale, and she sat still as a stone for a moment.

"Eames- Are you alright?" Bobby's voice was anxious and somewhere to her left, so she automatically turned her head to reassure him, but no words came when she opened her mouth. How had this happened? Had she let something slip- let something show? And oh God if someone else saw- what if Bobby had too? And ignored it. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering herself together and reopening them.

"Goren and Eames, Bobby I think you know your own address." She forced her usual dry humor into her voice, a sarcastic sense of 'oh how ridiculous'. Goren turned to her, snatching the file out of her hands faster than she could blink.

"Someone- someone reported _us_?" His voice was low and strained as he spoke. He glanced up at her quickly before turning away, still gripping the report in his hands. "Who?"

"Bobby- the complainants names are blacked out- you know that." She took a deep breath, forcing calm to spread throughout her body. She was all too aware of Captain Ross' presence in the room, even if Bobby had forgotten. "What does it matter, anyway? We weren't charged- so clearly the truth won out-"

"But this means that someone saw our conduct and found it lacking Eames- someone thinks that we aren't able to do our jobs because of some perceived conflict. Who would do that to us?" He had begun pacing, and in an effort to stop the confrontation that could occur between Bobby and their Captain, she stood, crossing over to block his path. He halted in front of her an indignant expression on his face. Gently she pried the file from his hands, and pushed him over to her chair, pushing him down until he landed with a soft thud.

"You read the rest of the names, I'll write Bobby." Her voice was stern and no nonsense, and it seemed to get through. He shook his head slightly, pulling a file over to him and she walked over to the white board , picking the marker up off the floor. Placing their file on a table over by her, she waited for him to read, ignoring Ross – as he had been ignoring them for the last few moments, thankfully.

A half hour later, they had the completed list- and were dividing it up into four sections for the task force teams. Once it was e mailed they grabbed their coats and strode out to meet the milling crew of officers awaiting instructions. Handing out the sheets with various addresses, they decided to split each task force into teams of five and each take three addresses.

Alex and Bobby wound up on a team with Ross, and two SWAT officers – Norel and Healy. They set out quickly- each team trying to get the checks done and over with- so they could find and arrest Clemmans.

The first two addresses were a bust with them- they had found the men, asleep and confused about why they were being packed into a SWAT van for safety. Almost every man had the same reaction though- they immediately asked about their female counterparts. In some cases it was painfully clear they had been reported for a reason.

As they swung down Canal street- they were going to Detective Stabler's next- the tension was almost palatable in the interior of the car. The other search teams would have reported him found right away- but they had heard no word, other than brief radio contacts stating which addresses were clear. They pulled up to the door, silent- no sirens or lights- they didn't want to alert Clemmans that they were coming. As she and Bobby made their way to the front door, vests on and guns drawn, the two SWAT members went around to the back of the building and Ross trailed behind them, his weapon out. As they approached the porch they could hear shouting from inside. She tensed, and looked at Bobby significantly. The words were muffled but they could hear a male voice yelling loudly. Suddenly the sound of china breaking filtered through the cold night air, and she nodded at Bobby, who kicked down the door with shouts of 'NYPD' and his weapon held securely in front of him. She entered after him quickly to see the SWAT members hovering over two prone bodies on the floor, both stretched out with their hands above their heads. She paused- holstering her weapon when she saw that it was Detective Stabler, and his partner- not Joe Clemmans. Sighing, she waved the SWAT team off, indicating that they should radio the all clear in.

"Alright- what in the hell is going on here?" She spoke in an irritated voice, as Bobby hauled Stabler off of the floor, pushing him back slightly at the expression of anger on his face. It quickly left, however and confusion replaced. Benson stood on her own power, brushing her clothes off and glaring at Bobby.

"Shouldn't we be asking _you_ that? Since when does NYPD bust into their own cops homes?" She glared at Bobby as she spoke- even though Alex had voiced the original question. Alex narrowed her eyes, feeling her irritation grow as she stepped in front of Bobby to speak.

"Since two cops are dead and we have a killer on the loose who could possibly be targeting your partner, Detective Benson." Her voice was clipped, almost sniping in it's anger. Bobby placed a hand on the small of her back and she could feel the tension drain out of her body. She wanted this guy caught- and he knew that.

"We apologize- we heard the shouting and glass breaking- since Detective Stabler was on our list of possible victims- we had to take every precaution- you understand." Benson still eyed him with mistrust but Stabler appeared slightly mortified and ashamed.

"Of course we understand- don't we Liv?" His voice was tight as he spoke. "I'm sorry- we were disagreeing- ask anyone, we're not known for our mild tempers. If we caused any worry- I apologize."

"Whatever." Alex bit out shortly- "You'll still have to come with us- we haven't apprehended the suspect yet and you are still at risk until we do. There's a van outside." Turning on her heel she strode swiftly through the door, leaving the explanations to Bobby and Ross. Frankly she was sick of hearing the same thing- every officer they had gathered so far had been outraged at the implication about he and his partner, and she was sick of hearing the same platitudes each time. Hell at this point, she was beginning to wonder if any teams _weren't_ sleeping together.

She stalked out to the lawn, rolling her neck as she went, trying to ease the tension that seemed permanently embedded there. After only a few moments of blissful silence, she heard his step behind her. Not pausing to think about how she knew it was him, she just sighed tiredly. "Not now Bobby-"

"Then when, Eames? What is going on with you lately?" He had stepped in front of her and she could see the concern written all over his face. "Is it this case? Eames, come on – talk to me." His voice was gentle and persuading and against her own will , she felt the pull his voice elicited. A need to tell him and just deal with it.

"Yes and no, Bobby- this case- it's just, I mean God Bobby are there _any_ partners not breaking the rules around here? What the hell are they there for if- if everyone is just going to ignore them?" She waved her hands as she spoke her voice strained and oddly high. He stared at her for a moment, running his hand along his jaw before speaking.

"You don't know they're all involved Eames. Hell- if someone came knocking on my door saying a serial killer was targeting fraternizing partners, I'd ask about you first too. It doesn't mean they're sleeping together- it means they care. And if every single partnership didn't have that level of caring at least- I'd be more worried." She turned away as he spoke- knowing that what he said was true. She was judging these people- just like Clemmans. Or was she just jealous? That they could clearly disregard rules, when she couldn't seem to do the same?

"I know." She spoke softly and he had to lean over her shoulder slightly to hear her. "I just kind of wonder what's the point? Why follow the rules when no one else is?"

He seemed to freeze for a moment, his eyes watching her, and she refused to look up- knowing that if Bobby was intuitive enough, which of course he was, he was _Bobby_ for christ's sake – he could hear the implication in her statement. Her heart slowed and seemed to stop beating as he leaned closer, in order to see her face better. She could feel the heat radiating off of his body, and she shivered in response to it. "Eames-" his voice was barely a breath, hardly above a whisper, but the way he said her name – pained and longing all at once-

"Goren, Eames! Get your asses back here. Task force three radioed in- they got him!" Ross' voice rang across the yard and they both turned, startled. They both released the breath they had been holding, and ran swiftly across the lawn. Jumping into the van, she sat silently staring out the window- trying to be thankful Clemmans was caught and not think about what almost happened, or feel her partners eyes watching her carefully.

* * *

"He's in interrogation one- but you need to know- we found him at Havlier's address-" Cooper, one of the detectives on the task force that had apprehended Clemmans paused awkwardly.

"You were too late?" Alex questioned flatly, sparing a glance at Bobby as she spoke.

"He had already drugged and shot Officer Havlier. He was just preparing to- when we arrived. So at least he didn't get to-" Cooper paused, his head down as he spoke. "If we had of went there first-"

"You can't blame yourselves. Clemmans waits until they've bled out before he starts cutting- chances are Havlier was dead before we got those files." Bobby spoke in a low tone, his hand resting on Cooper's shoulder as he comforted the man. Alex walked towards interrogation one, her steps slow and deliberate, until she stood in front of the door that housed a cop killing psycho on the other side.

"Eames-" Bobby had stepped up beside her, pulling her left into the observation room with him. Turning to her once inside, he spoke quickly. "We need to- to decide what approach to take. How to break him."

She stood, silently observing him with her arms wrapped around her waist. Her skin felt like it was on fire, and pulled tight- like she would fall apart at any moment. Part of her knew the danger in this, she hadn't been herself this case. Maybe the stress of everything had caught up with her. She was terrified to step in that room and face that man- but it was her job. And she was nothing if not a good cop, and right now she needed to help Bobby plan.

"Eames?" Bobby's voice intruded on her thoughts and he observed her as he leaned against the frame of the window. She took a deep breath, swallowing her nervousness and the feeling of dread lodged in her throat.

"Alright- how do you want to play?"

"He's going to deal better with me-" Bobby paused, peering through the window to the man housed behind it. His wrists were cuffed and resting on the table, and his head was down. There was no movement of any kind from Joe Clemmans, save for the rapid tapping of his fingers against the metal table top. "He- he sympathizes with the men- thinks they're victims. In fact- if you could play that up- it would infuriate him. Act like I'm on a tight leash-"

"Act?" She spoke dryly with an arched brow and he smiled in response.

"Jerk me around on evidence- that type thing. Fail to back me up- in other words, act the opposite you normally do. It'll infuriate him." He turned to her, frowning slightly when he caught site of her standing behind him. She nodded without speaking, her eyes still fastened on Joe Clemmans, and he frowned deeper. "Are you- will you be alright to do this?"

She glared at him with a frown. "Of course I'll be alright Bobby- aren't I always?" He seemed to hesitate a moment, before nodding slightly and exiting the room, taking his binder from Ross- who had been standing outside. She followed, at about a pace behind until they stood before the door. Then Bobby reached back, gently placing her in front of him, a sign of deference. They paused for a beat- exchanging a glance, concerned on his part, nervous on hers. Their eyes held for a beat, and then two- and they turned as one to face the latest monster held within the gray walls inside.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Alright- if this seems disjointed or confusing , I apologize. I blame it partly on the drugs I'm taking for the evul cold from hell, and partly on the fact that I was trying to go for a real 'in Eames' head' sense in this chapter. Bah. Review, cause I'm sick and I need the love, lol.

Disclaimer: As usual, I wake up to find that I do not own L&O - much to my dismay.

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She walked ahead of him, slamming the folder full of information down on the metal table. Jerking the chair out with a scrape and a snap, she sat down, her eyes turning to glare at a chair, then Bobby. The implication was clear, and he sat. Clemmans took all this in and sat silently, his fingers running up and down the edge of the table, over and over.

"Clever. Clever little trick. Did you think it would fool me?" He muttered, his hands continuing to run, up and back, up and back.

Alex gave him her best 'what in the hell are you babbling about?' look- one she had perfected for Bobby in the first year they were partners. He lifted his eyes to her, and she drew a sharp breath, startled by how dark they seemed, how empty and fathomless and absolutely disbelieving. A slight sweat broke out on her skin and she felt clammy. Clemmans' eyes were dark pools, and for a moment, looked so much like Bobby's she couldn't breathe.

Bobby sighed, and spread his hands in the 'you got us' way and leaned forward to look at Joe Clemmans' face. "You know we don't need to be here- right Joe? We- we caught you red handed-" Alex winced slightly at the bad pun, but kept her face as neutral as possible. Joe didn't take his eyes off of her, even with Bobby crowding his personal space. "So we don't really need a confession. The eye witness testimonies of five officers of the law would be enough- don't you think?"

Joe smiled then, and it was like a slash of white ivory against his shadowed, sallow skin. His eyes remained locked on hers, but he answered Bobby slowly. "Ah but DA's love confessions, don't they Goren? And you are the DA's golden boy- so you'll produce." Suddenly his hands halted, halfway through their repetitive movement, and he leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table in front of him. "Has this case- has it _bothered_ you, Detective Eames? Confronted by so many co worker's weakness- watching as-"

She felt her skin grow colder for a minute- just sixty seconds of weakness, as she allowed herself to be affected by his words. Shaking the sixty seconds off would take weeks- she knew- but she allowed him the minute of triumph. Taking a deep breath at the end of the minute, she steeled her gaze and watched him halt mid sentence before her gaze. "Enough. Why do it Joe? Did you hate the women that much?" Her voice was sharp, like a nail seeking to pierce his skin, but he refused to flinch like she had. "Did you maybe hate the men for doing what you couldn't? Did she turn you down Joe?"

"Like you hated them, Alex?" His voice hissed out her name like a snake, poised to strike. She hated the sound of it falling from his lips, but he leaned further forward, a cruel smile twisting his face into something demonic, that you picture as a child, hiding under your bed. "Hated them for the courage they had? That you never did, and never will?" A sudden bang startled both of them, and she turned to see Bobby, his breath escaping in short puffs and his hand pressed flat on the table. His gaze locked with hers, and she could see the questions hovering there. Like 'what happened to the plan?' and 'let me jump in.' She bit her lip, and turned back to Clemmans who hadn't even glanced at Bobby.

"Theatrics will get you nowhere, Goren." Joe spoke, once again ignoring Bobby's presence and never tearing his eyes from her. She could see- feel the malicious intent within them, the sadistic pleasure Clemmans got from doing this to them- to her. "I don't respond well to them. Alex here gets that, don't you Alex? I don't need you to analyze me and decide that playing submissive is the way to get me- or decide that you aren't very comfortable with me looking at her like this, are you?" Again his eyes never left her, and she felt her skin begin to crawl. He wanted her to look away from him- to see Bobby's reaction, but she refused. A chuckle rolled out of him.

"Very good, Alex. Such a man's name isn't it- Alex? A little girl trying to make it in a man's world." His grip on the table loosened, and once again, he began sliding his hands forward and back, but this time he held them against the table, palms flat and slid them out, just within inches of her and back. Flipping open the file in front of her, she smiled placatingly.

"Whatever you say Joe. Yup- that's me, trying to masculinize myself. And it works too." She could see Bobby lean back, frustrated out of the corner of her eye, but she didn't pay attention to him.

"Oh sure it works. You walk around in those suits- covering up any hint you're a woman. And you think it works." Joe laughed out loud, finally glancing at a scowling Bobby. "Goren- you know. Does it work? Does her wearing suit coats and tailored pants make you not picture what she has on underneath? Not think about how soft her skin would be, how your hands would feel running-" Bobby lunged out of his seat, his foot kicking Joe's chair away and lifting the man against the wall in one fluid moment, everything happening so fast that she'd have missed it if she blinked.

"Don't talk about her like that-" Bobby was in Joe's face now, his voice a low whisper that she knew would be hard to pick up on the intercom.

"Why detective?" Joe's eyes were curious, and not at all remorseful or frightened. "Does it make you angry? Embarrassed? Or do you just not want me to think about that smooth skin, hmm? Is that it?"

"Bobby." Her voice was tight and quiet, but she knew he heard her by the tension that settled within his shoulders. "Let go." Even she was surprised when he let go, stepping back and reseating himself. It wasn't his MO when he got physical with perps- to just back off. Bobby sat in the chair, glaring at Clemmans his hands now tapping along the table in an excited flurry. Joe brushed himself off and pulled his seat back to it's spot across from her.

"Well- that was interesting-" he started, but was cut off by Bobby leaning forward and whispering.

"Was it Molly Welks, Joe? Your first female partner? Or was it your last partner- Terri Donlan? I mean- one of them had to set it off, hmm? This- this deep seated hatred of women- because you weren't married Joe- no wife, no kids. So who was it?" Bobby spoke in a hot rushed whisper, his eyes never leaving Joe's face, watching his every reaction. He turned to her with one of those knowing looks and grinned. "I'd put my money on Terri- how bout it Eames? Wanna bet on Molly?" She just stared back at him for a moment, knowing that he hadn't missed the slight tension in Joe at Terri's name.

"Of course- of course it must be one of them, right Goren?" Joe's voice was laden with sarcasm as he continued to push, forward back, toward her, away. "I mean- every murderer has a deep secret within them, right? You find them. They secretly hated their Mommies-" He glanced at Bobby as he spoke before fixing his gaze back on her. "-or they're just too damn repressed. Is repressed a good word, Alex? I like it. Repression. Always an explanation- right Goren? That way you can find it like the scavenger you are and file it away and sleep at night. No one would ever murder just because he could. Or to prove a point."

"A point?" Alex's voice cut across, slightly amused. "And what's your point Joe? That NYPD rules are never followed? That women shouldn't be on the force? That-"

"No!" He bit out, his voice sharp. "Of course women should be on the force. They are- they are the heart of it Alex. You know that right? They feel more, sense more- are so much more in tune when their partner's are oblivious. To the pain, to the unintended hurts-" He was speaking in an excited tone now, leaning forward and holding his hands out palms up. She glanced at Bobby, who nodded imperceptibly, telling her to run with it.

"The hurts that the men cause?" Her voice was barely above a whisper but Joe looked up, his eyes alight with a manic excitement.

"Yes! Yes." He paused staring across at her, his fingers closing into fists slowly. "I knew you'd understand Alex. I knew you'd- you'd see. He can't see because he doesn't _know_. He assumes that I hate the woman- that all of this was about punishing them. It wasn't- I was-" He paused there, apparently realizing what he was saying and forcing the words to stop.

"What were you doing Joe? Saving them?"

Joe leaned back, his face blank as he stared at some point over her shoulder. "It never works. We know this, don't we Alex? That the bond partners share- it's too much for anyone to handle, but when you take it off that level- it can consume you. Like fire- you're on fire and you love it. Fire's dangerous though isn't it? You stand there and stare and stare at it, longing to touch it. But when you do, what happens?"

"You get burned." She finished for him in a soft tone- a picture forming in her mind that she suddenly didn't like.

"Men- we are a weak species, Alex. _Weak_. We allow the temptations, the sins of the flesh to supersede our morals. We allow ourselves to be taken in by women. We- we sully them with our intentions, our base morals." He seemed to shake himself out of the reverie he was in, and turned his eyes away from her, to focus on Bobby. "You know. We should hold them up- protect them from all harm, and we do not. Instead we allow the love we feel to get out of hand, we give in, we allow our weak nature to overcome us. And what happens then? We pull them off that pedestal- we snatch them down and make them our own!" His voice increased in volume and he stood abruptly, forcing his chair to scrape back against the cheap tile. He began pacing, back and forth along the back wall of the room, his hands reached out to the side and tracing the rough pattern on the wall.

Motioning to Bobby to stay seated, she stood and walked into his path- blocking him. He halted in front of her and almost seemed to shrink within himself. "Joe-" Her voice was soft in the room, and she leaned forward, putting herself within a few inches of him as she spoke. "Joe- what happened? With you and Teri?"

Tears suddenly filled the old mans eyes as he stood before her. "She was- she was everything. Do you know Alex?" He looked to her for understanding, and oddly enough she felt the pull of it. He reached out, grasping her hands in his, and Bobby stood over by the table, his whole body strung tight like a wire. He didn't move though, he stayed perfectly still and made no other move than standing. "Alex, I loved her. Not right away, you know- but she was so brilliant and so wounded- she needed me. And I loved being needed, and you- you know about that don't you?" His voice trembled and his hands shook as he stared at her. Dumbly she nodded and he smiled slightly. "He needs you, and that makes you feel complete doesn't it? And then it's not so far of a jump to love them, is it?"

"No." She whispered back, her eyes locked on his and her face oddly pale.

"I loved her for years. _Years._ And she- she never knew. I told myself no, that it was against regulations- but those thoughts Alex- those thoughts creep into your head in the middle of the night about how great it could be if they were _really_ with you. Right? You want them to be really with you." His voice tugged her closer, like a silent charm invading her thoughts. How many times had she lain awake at night and thought about it? How many times had she imagined his touch- his voice whispering her name?

She blinked rapidly and looked down, intensely aware of Joe's hands on hers, his eyes tracing her skin with wonder as he spoke. Just the way she had always wanted- but the man she wanted this from was standing across the room, watching silently. "Joe.. the rules-"

"They're there for a reason, I know. And maybe you are stronger than I was, Alex- but do you think you are the only one who knows? Really?" His voice had become hard again, like steel striking off of flint, she stepped back to avoid the sparks. "Your own Captain reported you- and everyone but you sees it, little girl. They all watch and wait- and get pissed because they assume that you are given special privilege- because he's the Chief's favorite." She felt the heat rush to her skin in absence of the cold. A heavy feeling settled in her chest as she watched the man transform in front of her eyes, changing from hurt old man to enraged killer in two seconds flat. His hands reached out, grasping her arms in a vice like grip, and he pushed her back until she felt the rough tile hit her back. "They all assume you're fucking Alex- so why not do it? Prove them right and give in to your baser instincts. Grab him and make him-" His words cut off as the air came gasping out of him, helped along by a strong arm that crushed his throat and pulled him away. She stood, breathing heavily for a moment, before yelling at Bobby to stop.

"Eames he's-"

"No! No, Bobby- stop. Just stop god dammit!" Striding forward she pulled him off of Joe and pushing him behind her small body. Stepping forward to where Bobby had him pinned to the wall, she felt anger surge through her. Raising her arms, she pushed him back against the wall when he would have stepped forward, and she pinned him there once more, her arm raised across his neck and the other pinning his cuffed wrists to his chest. The anger surged in her, washing over them like a giant crimson wave. She didn't really grasp the source- if she was pissed at Joe for telling things he had no right to speak about- or at Bobby for his absolute non reaction to it all- or if she was pissed about the actual murders. Maybe it was all three.

"Alright Joe- what do you want to hear, huh? That every time I look at him I feel my skin heat and my heart racess? That I barely restrain myself? Is that what you want to hear Joe? Does it make it easier for you? To judge me? Or him? Because I was strong when you were weak- and you feel this need for explanation?" She was inches from his face and he gasped, red slowly creeping into his skin tone as he fought for breath. She was distantly aware of a dull thud behind her and the sound of voices entering the room. "Tell me , you sick bastard- tell me why you care so damn much!"

"Be-" his eyes rolled back as he gasped slightly. "Because I wanted to do him first- I wanted to kill him first- but I never had proof that you two had been together. I wanted to know if I was wrong- if I should have slit him open like all the others for you to cry over." She pulled back quickly, his words stinging her. Hands grabbed at her, and pulled them apart , and she fought them, her instincts screaming. She watched through angry eyes as they pulled him away and took him out of the room. Blinking in the sudden quiet she saw Bobby, Ross and Carver all staring at her warily. "What?!" She snapped finally when the silence had stretched into something painful.

"Suspension Detective Eames, that's what." Ross snarled back at her. "Are you out of your mind? You almost killed the man-"

"Like any of you can tell me he didn't deserve it-"

"Detective Eames!" Carver's voice was scandalized and his glare held censure within it's brown depths. She ran a hand over her face , feeling how clammy the skin was. "I would expect this from your partner- but not from you. I have no idea what's going on with you- and frankly I don't think I want to know- but this was a display I never expected to see from you." She stared at him dully, aware that in the confusion- they probably hadn't heard everything, and if they had they were doing their level best to ignore it.

"I don't want to see you for at least a week, Eames. You can come in then and we'll discuss you coming back." Ross finally snapped, holding out his hand for her weapon as he spoke. She dropped it into his palm with a glare, along with her shield. Ross then turned abruptly, and exited the room with Carver on his heels. She sank down to the floor, her legs suddenly unable to hold her up. A sob caught in her throat as she stared off blankly. She felt his weight sink next to her, and his eyes on her as the room became still.

"What's- Eames, what's – I need you to talk to me. We can't fix this , whatever it is, unless you talk." His voice was low and soothing and she ran a hand against her head as she listened. Her nails scraped against the skin of her scalp and she closed her eyes tightly. "I've never seen you like that- me yeah. But never _you._" She wanted to crawl away- be left alone, but of course he refused.

"And why is that Bobby?" Her voice was dull, almost lifeless as she stared at her knees which were currently pressing into her chest from the pressure of her hands wrapped around her legs.

"Why is what?" His voice was slightly confused, and he reached out a hand tentatively to get her attention, but she pulled away from him, sliding further down the length of the wall. She finally met his eyes, lifting her head, and knowing that what he saw within them scared him by the way he flinched, just slightly.

"Why do I never get that way? Why do you always get that way? And why -" she laughed, but it was a hollow sound that echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the walls, and mocking her with it's echo. "Why exactly did you let me?" Anger was creeping back into her tone now, and he blinked slowly. Once. Twice. She could read his distress, but for once, she didn't give a damn about how he was handling it. She was tired- tired of being the strong one, the glue. Couldn't he just once be the glue that held her together instead of the other way around?

"Let you? Eames I-"

"No." She cut him off with a slash of her hand and a glare. "No Bobby- you never get suspended because I am always there- pulling you back- saving you from yourself, and the one time- the _one_ god damned time I need the same from you , you sit there!" The anger within her felt like an angry animal, clawing at her insides, begging to be let out full force. But even in a rage, her heart wouldn't allow it to be fully disclosed.

"Eames I didn't- it surprised me. No, wait!" He spoke quickly as she stood in one fluid motion, and he scrambled up with her, holding his hands out like a pleading child. "Please wait- what he said- and what you said- Eames I-"

She drew in a harsh breath, her eyes watching him fumble for the words with irritation. What was normally an endearing Bobby trait now seemed to only anger her more. "No! No Bobby- I don't give a shit what was said! You think that the shit you pull out in this room doesn't terrify the crap out of me at times? That I'm not thrown off by it. I _know_ you Bobby- and I know that what you do in here- you always have some grain of truth to it- no matter how small. But I- unlike you- manage to somehow put your best interests above my concern, or my shock. I still pull you back, and you couldn't do it for me? Damn you Bobby! Why didn't you stop me before I said it?!" Her eyes were filling with tears and she blinked rapidly, trying to prevent them from coming. Not here, not now.

His eyes were filled with pain, and he stepped closer to her, his breathing light and careful. Reaching out once more his hand touched the side of her face, drawing a line with his knuckle as he sought her eyes with his. "I didn't- I didn't know what you were doing- I-" He paused, his breath hitching in his throat for a moment before hissing out in defeat. Her body remained stiff, and all but pulled away from him. "I just didn't know." He finished in a tired voice.

"Yeah? Well you of all people should have known. What you're really saying is that you couldn't read me Bobby- and that's the one thing I always counted on you to be able to do. Read me." she stared up at him for a moment, and he seemed to stop breathing as he realized just how upset she was by this. His eyes widened in horror as he finally paused in his own reeling to read her. Shaking her head, she stepped around him, yanking the door open and striding over to her desk, aware of all of MCS' eyes following her. Yanking her coat off the rack, she pulled it one roughly, grabbing her keys out of the pocket, she dropped the SUV keys on his desk- he'd need them next week. She was halfway towards the elevators when he came running out of the interrogation room.

"Eames!" She continued to walk, ignoring him , her back stiff as she dodged people in her desperate attempt to run. "Eames!" His voice was louder- more desperate, and closer. She walked faster. "Alex-" She whirled around, halting mid step and glaring at him. He almost ran into her, but he managed to stop in time and even step back once at the expression of rage on her face.

"Oh don't you even think of 'Alex'ing me, Goren! You do not- I repeat _do not_ get to pull that shit now. Years, Bobby. Years I've been waiting for that and this is how you do it?" She ran a hand through her hair in agitation and his eyes followed it nervously. "I'm not doing this now Goren. So just back off and leave me the hell alone." The entire squad room and slid to a halt, all watching quietly when he had run out. The silence was almost deafening as she walked over to the elevator, and jabbed the button almost painfully. The doors opened immediately, as if sensing her anger, and she stepped in quickly, pressing the ground floor button. The last thing she saw before they slid shut was him, still standing where she had left him, his face pale and shocked.

Surrounded by blissful silence in the elevator, she shut her eyes tightly, but still saw his face, Her chest constricted painfully and she could still hear the echo of his voice, saying her name.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I got so many reviews last chapter- and I freaking loved them all. You all were quite divided though, and I love that something out of my imagination had the power to do that. Sorry I haven't been replying to them lately- but again, dire cold from hell which is finally getting better. So this chapter is shorter, and I know you'll want to kill me for the ned- but I needed something not quite so angsty as a break. You'll love me anyway right? Cause the next chapter will be a doozy, and probably won't be up until next week- Tuesday or so.

Disclaimer: I'm running out of ways to say not mine. Not mine.

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Sometimes a few feet could feel like an immeasurable distance. Or three inches could seem like a mile. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the scarred wood as she sighed. And sometimes the distance between today and yesterday could be thousands of miles, and she had covered that distance last night. The paleness of her skin and the circles under her eyes attested to that. She hadn't slept- but lord had she woken up.

She cradled the now cold cup of coffee in her hands as she stared at the blank wall across from her. Shivering slightly she pulled her coat closer, her mind lost in memories and her own thoughts. She had been so- just so angry yesterday. It was as if a valve had broken inside of her, and everything she fought so hard to keep tamped down had burst forth, like a vitriolic eruption. Burying her head in her hands, and shifting slightly on the hard floor, she squeezed her eyes shut. Even today- in the light of day, with almost twenty four hours between then and now- she cringed at what she had did. What she had said.

When she arrived home last night- she had still been pissed beyond all recognition. So instead of trying to deal with it, she had gotten pissed at her belongings. At home there was no Joe Clemmans, there was no Bobby to bear the brunt of her toxic anger- so she had walked into her home, and felt irrationally angry at it. Her house wasn't even a person- it was a thing- but she hated it none the less. She hated the sofa she always ended up sleeping on, because she couldn't quite take sleeping alone in the dark of her own room. She hated that she needed constant light now- that the dark brought forth images and sounds from her memory. She hated the table she had stood at, checking her mail when she had been taken by surprise. She hated the doors and locks for not keeping her out in the first place. She hated everything around her, and she had proved it. By systematically throwing and or destroying everything.

When the anger ran out- as it was wont to do – she had been curled up in her car and it was four am. The sun was barely trying to lighten the inky black of night and she stared at the horizon in relief and horror. It was then she woke up. The feeling of regret that had come over her then, had almost made her crawl out of the car and throw up. She got angry, she got proactive, she got tough. Alex Eames never got upset. She never cried. She never let other people in to help. Every crisis moment in her life- despite her having a large family who all loved her – every moment was dealt with alone.

Her husband had died, and she had refused her family for the first while. She had refused to cry, and be weak- and instead she had gotten angry- beyond pissed that Michael would leave her. Rationally- she knew it wasn't his fault. She knew that- but that didn't stop the anger and the guilt from crowding into her chest and pushing out the weakness.

When she had finally given birth to her sister's baby- what should have been a joyous occasion had felt like someone taking something from her. It was irrational- again, but she had been unable to reach down and dredge up the happy feelings she should have. At that moment she had pushed them away- her family, her sister, she had even only texted Bobby- to avoid talking to him. She had known that he would hear it in her voice. And she didn't want him to see it- this angry bitter side of her that seemed to take over. She hadn't cried- she had resented her parents for doting on their grandchild instead of her. She had been jealous over the love in her sister's eyes as she held her son.

It had always been drilled into her as a child. Eames' were tough. They didn't cry, they didn't complain, they did what was necessary and they supported each other, above all. At four am in her car- this had seemed like a hollow reassurance. When she woke in the hospital after being rescued- it had seemed like nothing but empty words. She had woken alone- no family had arrived, no Captain had been there- hell even no Bobby. She had felt tiny, and broken, and utterly alone. Maybe more alone than she had felt in that basement, hanging from a hook. She had wondered then- if that would be what broke her- but she had pushed past it, pushed any doubts she had down until she could no longer feel them.

It hadn't been what had broke her. She had broke herself- by being so damn strong, so damn stubborn that she refused to ask for help. She hadn't told her family she couldn't sleep- that she was terrified of the dark now. She hadn't explained to Bobby that although she was saying she wanted to come to work- she was nowhere near ready. She hadn't told that therapist anything other than what he needed to hear to clear her for work. She had shouldered all of these things on her own- and that was no one's fault but hers. She couldn't remember how long she had sat in her car- cold and achingly tired. When she started the ignition, the sun had won it's battle against the dark, pushing it back as it's light bled across the horizon.

She had needed time- she needed a place to think that was quiet and safe- and so she went were all guilty Irish folks go. Church. By nature she wasn't a church goer- and she hadn't been since she had left home. Years of being dragged to Mass in her Sunday best had taken it's toll, and by the time she reached adulthood- she had begun to question if the faith was really hers, or just something she did every week to please her parents. Despite all her questioning of the Church though- when she walked through those heavy doors, into the warmth of it's interior- she felt something. She always did. A certain type of warmth that seemed to seep into your very soul.

She had always blamed it on the level of comfort you got from the familiar- but part of her always wondered if that was exactly it. She had stepped into the building, and a soothing feeling had come over her. She had sat in the back pew, running her hands along the worn wood, and staring around her in silent thought. She hadn't knelt- she hadn't prayed – after all some things seemed a little too far out of reach to just embrace again. But she had sat there in silence and thought. She had thought about why she had reacted that way yesterday, she had thought about why she felt so tired lately, she thought about how sorry she was for hurting the one person she loved more than anything.

She had sat there- for what seemed like hours. She had watched a priest come and go – keeping an eye on her, but apparently understanding enough to leave her alone. She contemplated what exactly her life had become suddenly. She felt like she was balancing on the edge of some great realization, but couldn't quite give up the fight to remain steady. She sat so long in thought that people began to fill the pews around her, readying themselves for morning mass. She had stayed for that too, wondering at how readily the words came back to her. When she had exited the building into the bright morning sunshine, she only knew one thing. She had to see Bobby. She needed to explain to him. Needed to make him understand if he was even willing to listen.

She had stopped at a street vendor, taking a hot cup of coffee from him before returning to her car and driving towards Bobby's apartment building. She had driven as if in a daze, and when she arrived, even she couldn't tell you exactly what route she had taken, or how many red lights she had hit.

She was in the elevator, rising up to his floor when it hit her that it was Thursday- and he would be at work. He hadn't been suspended- just her. Frowning at her own idiocy, she had walked down the hall to his door, not knocking, simply sinking to the floor in front of it. It was a little after noon now. If she left- she might not be able to convince herself to come back. So she sat on the cold floor in his hallway, her back against his door, and cradled the warm cup of coffee and thought about what she would say.

She went through a thousand different scenarios in her head. Some of them ended with him understanding and they went on as they were. Those ones left a vague sense of disquiet in their wake though. She had a hundred more where he wouldn't listen. Even more where he couldn't forgive her- but the rational side of her knew that Bobby wouldn't be like that. He wasn't unforgiving by nature- in fact at times he was too forgiving. A few scenarios, she allowed her heart to rule and their endings made her blush slightly and warmth would invade her limbs, a welcome respite from the cold aching feeling that had settled in.

None of them clearly pinpointed what she should do though, and she looked down at the now cold brown sludge in her cup as if it would inspire her. One thing she knew for sure- she could not accept an outcome that didn't include Bobby in her life in some way. The issue was to decide if she should just go for everything, the brass ring, or just settle for him there in her life. She could lose her job- but then again, she found surprisingly that she didn't care as much about that as she once did. Sure she was a cop- but she could be a cop without Bobby as a partner – if it came down to that. The problem had never been with her- it had always been the worry that he couldn't deal with being a cop without her if it became necessary. But maybe she wasn't giving him enough credit- maybe it was never her decision to begin with. It was his.

She sat up a little straighter, pushing her back against the solid door, seeking relief from the pain that had settled itself there. It was his decision. Why hadn't she given him that credit before? He didn't deserve to have his decisions made for him- he was a grown man. She had to prove that she trusted him- with everything, not just what she picked and chose. She had to tell it all – and then let him decide what to do with it. In a way it was a relief. The burden was lifted from her shoulders and they almost ached in relief. They had been carrying the weight of this decision for a while- and it was a new feeling, to put it someone else's hands.

Now that she had made a decision and come to a conclusion, she felt the impatience settle in. It was just after three now- he would be home soon. Chances were Ross would stick him with paperwork all day – she gave a short half laugh of sympathy for him, she had screwed him in more ways than one yesterday – Bobby wouldn't stay later than five with a desk full of paperwork. She let her head fall back with a thud of exhaustion against the door, wondering if he would ignore her if she fell asleep on his doorstep. Pulling her coat tighter with one hand, she knew she wouldn't fall asleep anyway- it was way too damn cold out here.

She felt a weightless sensation behind her back, and she felt a moment of shock as her support fell away from behind her. Her head landed with a dull sound against the wood floor of his hall, and hours old cold coffee spilled across her chest, the dark stain blooming against her shirt. Her vision darkened for a second- it had hurt like a son of a bitch, and when it cleared she saw his face hovering over her, his expression one of horror.

"Alex! Jesus! I didn't know you were there. Are you alright?" He slid large hands under her shoulders and lifted her awkwardly, pulling her inside at the same time, and shutting the door behind him. She held one hand to her head, and the other crushed the empty cup in it's grasp. He ran hands over her head, checking for bumps or bleeding, and she stood silently, allowing him to do it. More than that, enjoying the feel of the warmth from his skin seeping into hers, and breathing deeply so she could smell that scent that was so Bobby. When he stepped back, apparently satisfied that she wasn't about to pass out due to concussion, he stared at her for a beat, before gently prying the cup from her hand. She released it, and he tossed it into a nearby trash before turning back to her once more.

"Alex?" He frowned suddenly, as if he had just remembered the events that had lead her here to this moment. His eyes stared at her expectantly and she felt everything inside her freeze. All of her various situations, all of her plans and speeches, and none of them applied to her falling through his doorway and spilling crap all over herself.

"Bobby-"


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Ending it on lucky 13, huh? No, there will be no sequel - I just don't do those, so don't ask, lol. They always turn out badly, so really I'm protecting you all. I will be working on an AU B/A fic though - mostly romance and drama , not a casefile. Which isn't to say I'll never do casefile again - just not the next one. I want to thank everyone who reviewed, especially those who corrected some of my errors. I appreciate every single review - more than you know.

Disclaimer: They still aren't mine, even though I've spent every day with them for the last few weeks. Lucy Dick Wolf and NBC.

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"Bobby- I-" His face was pale, and he looked stricken for a moment before he seemed to jerk into motion quickly. His hands were held out in front of him and he stepped forward, cutting her off.

"Alex- I- your shirt. You need to change- otherwise the stain will never come out and-" His hands were tugging at the hem of her shirt now, lifting up and out, and the sticky fabric peeled away from her skin as he did so. She felt a sense of frustration- she hadn't screwed up the courage to come here only to be pushed aside by him. She slapped at his hands, which dropped immediately and once again the fabric fell with a sigh and leeched onto her skin.

"Dammit Bobby, I don't give a shit about the shirt. It's just a shirt." He stepped back as though stung, but she followed his movement and stepped forward, keeping the distance between them at a minimal amount. "I didn't come here to fix the shirt Bobby- I came her to fix _us_. Can you just- just let me, please?" He nodded silently, taking her hand and pulling her down the hall behind him. She sighed, trying to pull back, but his grip was stronger than hers, and he pulled her into his bedroom. Opening a drawer he pulled out a plain white undershirt- holding it out to her.

"Yes- I'm not avoiding talking- I just- I don't- Alex your shirt is wet. And that can't be comfortable- for you." She listened to his hesitant speech and rolled her eyes, finally snatching the shirt from him. Dropping it on the bed, she pulled her now ruined shirt over her head, and then pulled his on. It was huge- and almost comical, but when she looked at him, she saw that he was determinedly looking at the wall opposite her.

"Alright- can I talk now? Shirt crisis has been averted." He turned to her, his eyes traveling over her as if to make sure she really had changed. Suddenly a wave of absolute exhaustion came over her, and she sank down, sitting on the edge of his king sized bed that took up most of the room. "Bobby-" She forced herself to meet his eyes, to face him both literally and figuratively. He stood still- unnaturally still, waiting for her to finish. "I'm- God this is going to sound so stupid- and not nearly enough- but I am so so sorry. I wasn't- it wasn't _you_ I was angry with- but I let myself just.. just take it out on you. And that was wrong, and hurtful and stupid. And I regret every second of it." She spoke in a soft voice, but quickly- so she could get it all out in one breath, before she lost what little will she had started with. She looked down at her hands, afraid to see his face, choosing instead to watch her fingers twist and weave around each other in agitation. She felt the bed sink next to her, and she knew he had sat down with her.

"I know." His voice was so soft she almost didn't hear him, and she tilted her head towards him to hear better. They both stared at the wall ahead of them though, and she didn't turn to watch him. "I – it hurt Alex- I'd never.. never heard you yell at me like that. But I think- even then when it killed so much- part of me knew it wasn't me you were mad at- I was just.. there."

"That doesn't make it better." She made a sound that started as a laugh, but seemed to strangle itself in her throat and ended up more of a groan. "It doesn't make it okay, or right Bobby. I hurt you- and that-" She paused a moment, her voice growing thick. Closing her eyes, she took several deep breaths to calm herself. She didn't cry. She couldn't cry- especially not now. "Bobby I have seen you- I've seen you angry and out of control. I've watched you spin out- and never once- never once when these things happen to you- did you ever lash out at me. Why would it be the first thing I do? It's- it's awful and-"

"It's different Alex. You can't compare me to you." She could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, and she felt more miserable for it. She didn't want to be coddled or understood. She wanted to be punished, she wanted him to yell at her- so she could at least be absolved somewhat. "I- Alex- it happens to me so much. I get to release everything on the job. I get to be the crazy one, the understanding one, the angry one, the emotional one. And you- you just get to be the person who stands there on the ledge and gets to pull me through it." She bowed her head, her guilt like a lead weight in her chest, sinking further down with each word. She felt a slight shift on the bed, as he turned towards her, and she could feel his eyes running over her face and frame, as if it was a physical touch of his skin on hers. "Every time, Alex." His voice was whisper now, and she shivered as he leaned in to let her hear him, causing his breath to tickle across her skin, a teasing touch. "If you needed me to stand there and be your punching bag- I would have done it. Gladly."

She blinked slowly, licking dry lips as she processed what he had said. She felt the energy almost drain out of her, and she fell backwards, staring at the ceiling and resting her hands over her stomach. "You shouldn't have to do it Bobby- if I was honest- if I had just told you-"

He laid back with her and stared at her for a moment, his head turned towards her. She felt irritation as he watched her, like she was something broken that he felt a need to fix and reassure. "Tell me now." She bit her lip, still staring at the ceiling above her, smooth and plain white- a vast expanse of blandness. Her breathing became shallow as she observed it. This was what she had come for. To explain- and this was the time. But now that she had arrived here, she felt herself hesitate at the the edge of the proverbial cliff. She swayed forward and back, fighting for equilibrium, fighting herself. She closed her eyes, fighting for a sense of balance, and digging deeply for the courage she had held in her hands not two short hours ago.

"I should have told you that I was scared. To be alone – after. I should have asked you to stay with me, and screw the case. I should have said I wasn't ready to be back at work- but I just missed you so damn much Bobby." She felt a sick feeling in her stomach as she spoke. One of those 'this will either be really really bad or really really great' feelings that she couldn't quite swallow down.

"I saw you everyday-" She could hear the frown in his voice, and almost picture the look on his face. She didn't need to see him to know what it was.

"It wasn't- it wasn't really the same Bobby. You drove me to therapy, asked how I was. If I needed anything. And I told you I was fine, and no I didn't- and I-" She paused for a moment, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes, and she struggled to find the perfect way to explain. "The connection was gone. Everyday Bobby- I've had that connection. Those looks that said you understood, that simple dance that we did so well. And I'm not blaming you- I'm not. I put a certain amount of distance between us when we were off the job- I needed it. It was a wall _I_ built- not you. But when this all happened- I guess I wanted you to break it down. It was too much to expect."

"Alex, look at me please." His voice was strangely strong and she felt herself turning towards him despite her irrational fear screaming at her not to. When she rolled on her side, he raised a hand and it hovered in the air between them, before he dropped it as suddenly as it had risen. "You didn't build that wall alone. I helped. Hell, I could never call you by your name- a fact that I knew irritated you- but I did it because if I allowed myself for even a moment to think of you as Alex and not Eames.." His voice trailed off and his eyes locked with hers for a moment. Once again, half of their conversation was occurring in her head, but she didn't want that. Not this time.

"No more things unsaid Bobby. I need to hear everything, do you understand. But you need to hear everything first- so let me finish." She paused for a moment, looking for his acceptance, and when she saw it in his face she continued on. "I lied to you. I'm not fine- I still can't sleep at night, and I can't stand the dark anymore Bobby. I keep hearing that girl's screams.. I shouldn't have come back for the Wiznewsky case. I mean I know you noticed- you saw how I was at the scene, I could barely look at her. I wasn't ready- but I kept on anyway. And maybe – I don't know Bobby – maybe it was because of that I was just so damn hurt hearing about your Mom in a suspect interview of all things." She blinked for a moment, once again fighting the urge to just give up. Biting her lip, she looked at him once more, reading the contrition clearly in his eyes- but to his credit he kept his unspoken agreement, and didn't interrupt.

"It felt like I was just drifting and I was losing you too- I was barely speaking to my family – much to my mother's annoyance, I'm sure. I don't know how to do this Bobby- how to not be the strong one. And then this case-" She paused for a moment, rubbing a hand over her face, knowing that soon enough her attempts to conquer her wayward emotions would fail. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She felt him shift and then felt his hand slide into hers, grasping it warmly. It was his wordless support and she clung to it, grateful for it's presence.

"This case has been awful. I've been all over the map- and not just emotionally. I knew, I knew as soon as we interviewed MJ that this was going to be _the_ case. The one that could break me – and maybe us. I couldn't seem to get distance from it- from my feelings for the victims, for you. I blamed you, and I'm sorry for that. I just- I didn't want to face what was really going on with me Bobby. I can't do that anymore though." She felt the tears, hot and wet on her face, and she hated them. Hated herself for doing this when she promised herself she wouldn't.

"I feel- I feel like I can't do this anymore. Like I'm some small frail thing that's just waiting to be broken. Work makes me feel that way." She sniffled slightly looking up at him with contrite eyes. " Work used to be the one thing that made me feel strong, and for some reason I can't even get that feeling anymore. In that room yesterday- I let him get to me, and it was so simple Bobby. It was so easy for him to get me right where he wanted me, and it was like being in a river. Like I was trying to swim against the current but I only fought for a second. Then I just let the tide take me. And the things I said- Ross will have my ass for I'm sure. But I-" She paused, taking a deep breath and meeting his eyes straight on. "I meant them. I didn't lie to get closer to him Bobby- I meant what I said. About me and you- and I'm so sorry it happened that way. I should have told you- I should have-" Her words were harder to understand through the tears and the thickness of her voice, but she knew he heard her. She knew because he pulled her closer, wrapping long arms around her and stroking her hair, muttering things that made no sense, but the rumble of that deep voice calmed her anyway.

She cried. She allowed him to hold her, and she clung to him like a lifeline as she cried. She didn't know how long she did it, or what he thought- she just drew comfort from him and let go. She let him hold her there, anchoring her with his arms as she set herself adrift. When she finally stopped, she felt a sense of tired so deep in her bones, she just wanted to pass out then. But she knew she couldn't, she needed to know what he thought. How he felt. So she breathed in and out, smelling him all around her, and she opened her eyes, studying the buttons on his shirt, focusing on them as she forced herself to calm down. He pulled back slightly, looking down at her. "I'm sorry." She whispered in the still room, and she felt his arms tighten for a brief second.

"Don't." His voice was low and rough in her ear and she shivered involuntarily. "Don't apologize Alex- I feel like I should be the one apologizing. All those times in that interrogation room that you backed me up, kept me anchored to you- and I couldn't do the same. My only excuse is I couldn't seem to wrap my mind around it-"

She laughed, a slightly watery sound. "Something _you_ couldn't wrap your mind around? Should I be proud?"

He pulled back, creating space between them and she felt the cold air rush around her. He looked down at her, his hand once again reaching up, but this time it didn't falter, and it brushed her hair back, his expression almost reverent. He touched her face, his fingers trailing along her jaw, back until they skimmed the delicate skin behind her ear. "Yes. You had the courage to come here- I never would have. We've both been- been disjointed lately. I felt like I needed to give you space after you were found. I know now it was wrong – but at the time..." He paused as if searching for the right words, and she held her breath waiting. " When I got that message Alex- I felt like I couldn't breathe. I ran, and it felt like someone had physically hurt me. Everyone- everyone kept telling me- she's dead. Accept it and catch the guy. I – I couldn't. When we found that second body- all I felt was relief that it wasn't you. I was- out of control to put it mildly. It was like half of me wanted to kill Declan- and the other half was scrambling, trying to think. Where you were, what would be the next step. It was like I couldn't decide and for the first time my mind failed me. I was getting nowhere without you. And all – all it took was sitting by your bed, seeing you there, and I knew. All of a sudden everything crystallized and I knew it was never him. It was her." He stopped, looking at her with serious eyes, and a guilty expression. "It was you- I realized that I'm no good on my own anymore. I- I need you there to help me make sense of my thoughts. And it terrified me. I found myself thinking, what if one day you're not there? I was confused, and I pulled back a bit. I thought maybe I was too close to you- and that was the problem." His hands hadn't left her face as he spoke, his fingers absently running circles along her skin, and she closed her eyes , fighting to listen to his words.

"Did it work?" Her voice was a whisper, and his hands stopped moving and she opened her eyes to see him watching her. His eyes seemed to leave a trail of heat wherever they moved and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

"No." He whispered back, and she ran a tongue along her too dry lips. His eyes followed the movement, darkening slightly and she forgot how to breath for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. His hand moved down along the column of her throat, tracing a path down to her pulse point, where it rested, a warm pressure over her wildly fluttering pulse. "It didn't work. It just made everything feel wrong. I missed you, even though you were right there. I couldn't talk to you when you asked me to."

"Seems to me, that for two people so great at 'unspoken communication' we kind of suck at the spoken kind." She spoke wryly and the corner of his mouth twitched into a half smile, his eyes lightening for a moment. His hand rested flat against her chest, just above her heart, and she lay there, enjoying the moment. The silence seemed to wrap around them, but it wasn't uncomfortable this time, it was comforting. It was a moment that seemed to stretch, and she felt regret at the need to break it. "So- what happens now?" Her whisper slithered across the silence, wrapping itself around them, demanding that a choice be made.

"We need to decide what to do. Nothing has been done that can't be undone Alex. Not yet." His last words were heavy with promise and she felt a heat uncurl in her stomach, and settle lower. "We could- we could go back. To the way it was." His voice made it sound like he was suggesting torture, and silently she agreed. She sighed audibly, and looked up at him.

"No." She spoke softly but surely, shaking her head. "I can't. It almost killed me Bobby – to be just your partner for the last few years. I've spent a lot of time – and I mean a lot of time, thinking about this. I was worried about you. About how it would effect your career. I was trying to protect both of us- but-" She paused, blinking back tears angrily as she spoke. "I don't want to fight it anymore. I don't want to pretend, or be unhappy, or be alone anymore. I want you. I want us. And I don't care what it costs me- it's costing me more to not do it." She placed a hand over her chest, over his, her fingers intertwining with his as she looked in his eyes. She felt an immense sense of lightness, of release. Looking in his eyes, she spoke softly. "I love you. I always have, and I can't pretend not to anymore." She held her breath, waiting in trepidation as he blinked slowly. Time seemed to slow, and it felt like he took forever to respond, even though she knew it was barely a few seconds.

"Eames.." His voice made the word a caress, and she shivered at the sound of it rolling across his tongue – oddly pleased that he called her that- despite her wanting him to use her first name. "I don't want to hide anymore either. We can do this- together you know. No more lies, no more hiding – not from each other – not from anyone else. I've loved you too long to lose this now-" He was still talking, but her mind only seemed to register one thing. She had done it. She had finally let go, allowed herself to fall off that edge and he had caught her. Of course he had caught her – why had she ever thought anything else? She moved closer to him, letting go of his hand and wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling her body against his and effectively shutting him up. His hands settled on her hips automatically and she felt them span her waist and almost touch in the back. A shiver passed through her as she tilted her head up to his and pressed forward, Her mouth met his, and it was perfect. Hesitant and sweet- just like him, but once he responded, his hands pulling her closer and she opened her mouth under his, feeling heat ricochet through her like liquid fire as his breath mingled with hers. She felt like she was on fire and drowning all at once. When they pulled apart, she had to take a moment to remember how to breathe. His hands trembled as they came up to trace the line sof her face and she smiled at him, a brilliant grin that should have hurt it was so large, but it didn't.

"We'll tell Ross. We'll tell everyone, and rules be damned. And even if-" She paused, wondering if he had thought of that particular consequence, but he smiled in answer to her own and his eyes seemed to light up.

"If they split us up – which I doubt if we pitch a big enough fit – and I'm rather good at them – even if we do get separated job wise- would it matter? Really?" His hands were constantly moving as he spoke, and she discovered that his restless energy seemed to apply to more personal aspects of his personality as well. They roamed, across the small of her back, between her shoulder blades, over her should, along her collar bone. They skimmed down her ribs, and across her stomach and she almost gasped at the feeling of them. It felt as though they were everywhere at once, and she felt her body strain towards him involuntarily. Blinking she realized he was waiting for a response, and she shook her head silently.

"As long as we're together- work doesn't matter Bobby. It's just icing if we stay together there." She smiled as she spoke, and his hands, which had stilled along her ribs, began their wandering path again. It was like her was trying to memorize every bit of her, and she responded eagerly. "Are you afraid, Bobby?" Her voice was small as she buried her face by his neck, inhaling deeply and just absorbing the heat from his skin.

"No." His voice was steady and sure, strong in a way she had never heard before. "No – if you haven;t left yet- If you still love me after everything you know- no I'm not afraid Alex. I'm just- just grateful." He spoke simply and she felt the guilt that had been weighing her down finally let go, and she wrapped her arms around him tightly, hugging him for all she was worth. Part of her was still a little bit afraid – wondering if she could handle something this serious- because she and Bobby were never going to be any type of casual. But she also felt a sense of comfort and warmth from his faith in her. She knew that everything would be fine, because no matter what they had to face – the NYPD, family, joy or crisis – they would do it together. At this moment, with his arms around her and his breath by her ear, she knew she could face anything with this man. This time – everything would be different, because she wasn't facing it as Alex Eames, but rather it was BobbyandAlex. Two names that belonged together. Two names that were so much stronger now than they had been an hour ago. She knew they were ready- finally after such a long road, they were ready to take this on. Together.

_I hid the love within my heart,  
And lit the laughter in my eyes,   
That when we meet he may not know  
My love that never dies._

_But sometimes when he dreams at night  
Of fragrant forests green and dim,  
It may be that my love crept out  
And brought the dream to him._

_And sometimes when his heart is sick   
And suddenly grows well again,  
It may be that my love was there  
To free his life of pain. _

_ Hidden Love, Sara Teasdale_


End file.
